Lifeline
by subseeker
Summary: Three months after being caught up in a bank robbery, Phil still struggles with the events and not knowing if Stephen is still alive. When he finds him someday waiting for him at his apartment, the world seems to be good again. Can love grow? But what seems to be a thing of the past... isn't over yet. SheaPunk / AU, Copper-verse with appearances: Randy, John, Dean, Seth and Roman.
1. Chapter 1

So, this is a sequel to Copper, starting where the other one left off.

Oh, and thanks for the plenty reviews to Copper! I actually wouldn't have guessed that the story will have much feedback or will be read much at all, so… *bows*

We will have some appearances. You will meet John and Randy, Dean, Seth and Roman, but, well, this is still AU :)

Let me put a 'warning' here, there will be golden moments, but there will be dark moments, too. Just like the summary says.

Hope you'll like this one as much as Copper. Let me know ;)

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"_Biscuit…"_

_His hands came up to the broad shoulders, fingers splaying briefly to feel, before curling into the shirt to pull himslef closer. The answer was immediate and the arms which held him tightened their hold._

"_Biscuit…" he said again, desperate and happy at the same time._

_Burying his face against the other man's shoulder, he got lost in a world of strong arms which held him safe, in a world of being wrapped up in warm sunlight and cinnamon and molded against a broad frame. In a world where his name being whispered by that special voice was giving him life, healed his hurting soul._

_The tears which had burned in his eyes were falling now, dampening the fabric he was nuzzling against but it was okay, because he felt Stephen hide his face in the crook of his neck, felt a damp warmth there… both tears of relief and happiness. Freeing and sweet…_

_For long moments the world around him didn't exist while they stayed like this, holding on to each other… like on to a lifeline. In a way they had been each others lifeline, had they not? And for him Stephen was still a central theme, had been all those weeks._

_The red hair tickled against the skin of his neck and it was wonderful, this feeling, and it was perfect, because this time it was okay to savor it. There was no bitter guilt ruining it. One of his hands found its way into the copper-tinged hair, his fingers diving into it. His reward was a sigh and that sigh, it carried his name…_

Phil's eyes stayed glued to Stephen, who stood at the bar, getting them something to drink and Phil didn't even try to hide the pretty silly smile that danced on his lips. Stephen had suggested to come to this pub and the table they had chosen to sit was at the far end of the in a corner, keeping them more or less out of sight pretty good and even if someone saw him like this, he fucking didn't care. He had a damn good reason to smile like this. And the reason was just gazing back at him, gracing him with a bright smile.

One that lightened the whole dimmed room.

He still couldn't believe that they were here now. A few hours ago his life had been… hell… and now? Stephen was alive. And not only was he alive, he'd also come to him and just like that his depressed little world had lightened up, just like this room now. It was almost like a dream.

A dream… Phil blinked once. This wasn't a dream, was it? Just to be sure he pinched himself, hard and a hiss passed his lips, the smile becoming a tad more silly at the sharp pain and the burning afterwards. Nope, this wasn't a dream. Good…

Stephen returned with their drinks in hands and to Phil's delight he sat down close to him and there it was again. Cinnamon. He took a deep breath and, yes, his love for cinnamon had just reached a new quality. It had reached the stage of addiction.

A soda was placed right in front of him and just as he wanted to wanted to reach out for it, a loud bang ripped through the room, causing him to flinch hard and his mind told him to crouch down and hide, but hands on his arm and shoulder stopped him.

"Hey, calm down," Stephen said, the bright smile wiped off his face, being replaced by worry. "It's just been the door."

As quickly as Phil's heartrate had spiked, it went back to normal at the touch. It was almost ridiculous that to feel those hands was enough to chase the fit of panic away just like that. Embarrassment tugged at him for freaking over a door colliding with a wall. _A fucking door._ Staring at said door, because there was still that alarmed little voice in his head, he followed the gentle pulling of those hands, urging him to sit back down.

"Don't worry," Stephen said with a reassuring little nod.

"Huh?" Phil muttered, wrenching his eyes away from the door.

"Yer are afraid tha it'll happen again, aren't yer?" the other man asked. "Masks, guns…?"

Pressing his lips together until there was only a thin line left, Phil only dropped his gaze and he couldn't help the embarrassed and crooked not-quite-smile that spread over his face now. He shouldn't be feeling embarrassed, there was no reason to feel like that. Less because Stephen… well, Stephen _knew_, didn't he?

Scooting a bit closer, Stephen said: "This is a pub full of cops. The last guy who thought tha it's a good idea to come in here with a gun couldn't even finish his sentence before he had a whole armory pointing at his head. So, no need to worry, yer couldn't be more safe."

The hand on his shoulder vanished, but the one on his arm stayed a moment longer, giving it a soft squeeze, almost like an unspoken _and I am here, too_. And more than knowing that the pub was full of cops, it was having Stephen here that worked calming on him.

"I'm okay, it's just… The last three months have been difficult. I guess I'm just a bit exhausted and overstrained…" he said then, feeling his arm being squeezed softly again, before that hand also left.

Too bad.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Did he? He wasn't sure. Talking about the last three months now… no, it wasn't what he wanted. He actually wanted to enjoy that Stephen was back. It would be bitter enough that the memories of those few hours would come up now anyway.

"I tried to find you. I called every fucking hospital and police department, but all I got was nothing," Phil muttered nevertheless, taking a sip from his soda.

He needed to say it, because he wanted Stephen to know that he'd been searching for him.

"Well, neither hospitals nor the departments are allowed to give information," Stephen replied. "A safety-thing."

Putting the glass back down on the table, Phil turned it back and forth in his hands, mumbling: "I didn't even know if you're... alive. The last time I saw you, they tried to bring you back to life."

"The doc told me tha they had to revive me three times." Stephen's voice sounded a bit detached as he spoke. "The last thing I remember is yer asking me out for a beer and me saying yes."

Phil's chest chlenched painfully. Three times…

"You… after you said yes, your heart stopped beating," he said very quietly, but the other man had heard him, because there was a fleeting expression of… sadness?

Fuck, no, he didn't want to talk about that now, he really needed some happiness before they could dive into those topics.

"Yer don't want to talk about it now, do yer?"

He shook his head no as he looked up to Stephen. Handsome. Beautiful eyes, a perfect nose, kissable lips. Soft features… smooth, pale skin. The nicely trimmed beard framing his face just right. And a smile so breathtakingly bright and… His eyes fell on the scar on his forehead. The one the bullet had left behind and he had to gaze away.

"So, no alcohol, huh?" Stephen grinned then, pointing at the soda. "How boring."

"Nope. No alcohol. And no meat. Well, except fish," Phil said, willing a _thank_ _you_ to his eyes for changing the topic. "And no, it's not boring. In fact it can be highly amusing to be the only sober person in a room full of drunk people. It's a bit like dark tourism. You have no idea how many pics and videos I have stored on my phone which could be used for blackmail."

"No alcohol and no meat could never happen to me," Stephen chuckled, taking a sip from his beer then. "I love beer and food tha is made of beady-eyed animals."

The blue eyes gazed at him over the rim of the glass, mirth dancing in them.

"Oh, yeah, wonderful. What are you, a Neanderthal? Meat, fire, _good_ or what?" Phil teased and earned a snort.

"Well, but I already learned to make some fire. Neanderthal barbecue, yer know?"

Stephen grinned and scratched his head, drawing Phil's attention back to the scar on the other man's forehead, the imperfection on the otherwise perfect skin an everlasting reminder of what had almost happened and while he gazed at it, Stephen tilted his head a bit to the side and frowning slightly, he touched the scar.

Fuck, he didn't want to go there again. Too late…

"Tha one's cute compared to the other one," he said softly and dropped his hand to the hem of his shirt, pulling the fabric up.

Phil's eyes followed the other man's hand automatically and then to what the shirt revealed. It left him swallowing hard. A big, red scar blemished the smooth white skin, the shape reminding a little of a sketched sun and it caused the hair on the back of his neck to raise, because it made the memory of all the blood too vivid… and along with his heart, his breathing quickened. No heartbeat, no breathing… a lifeless weight pressing against him…

"Phil?"

His name was spoken so very softy, still it ran through him like a jolt that woke him from a lingering nightmare, one he had found himself in every night… and everyday, every minute. In the single word lay not only a question, there was also worry lacing into it and it was now that he became aware of the fact that his hand hovered over the other man's belly, close to the scar. With a whispered _sorry_ he drew his hand back… but it was stopped by fingers, curling around his wrist. Warm, alive.

"I don't mind," Stephen said hushed.

"What?" Phil asked quietly as he blinked slowly at him while his mind processed the message.

"The scar. I don't mind if yer touch it," Phil heard the other man say, still hushed, too goddamn softly… and wasn't there a _please do it_ lying underneath?

But maybe he was just imagining things…

And then his wrist was free. His heart was still running, now because of what Stephen had just said. It was almost funny that there was no _distance_ left. That distance people used to have, but maybe the distance between Phil and Stephen had simply gotten lost that day, when they went from being strangers to being the only ones they had left within a handful of minutes.

Hestitant fingerstips touched the marred skin, feeling the thick texture of the scar… tracing the rays of that sketched sun. And then Phil covered it with his palm, fingers splaying on the pale skin and the steady and gentle rising and falling of the belly under his hand was soothingly.

"I owe my life to you," he said, green eyes locking with blue ones again and he found something very soft lying in them. "Huh… I have no idea how to make it up to you."

Stephen's hand settled on his then, the shirt slipping down to cover both their hands and if possible the softness in the blue orbs became even softer. And Phil caught himself wanting this softness to belong to him and it was almost ridiculous how right this very thought felt. Or the feeling of that broad hand blanketing his own.

"And yer saved _me_ life, so no need to."

To the softness in Stephen's eyes added an equally soft smile. And now he wanted that smile, too, to belong to him. Goddamn…

He should really take his hands away, really-really should, because the longer it stayed there, the more it felt as if it shouldn't be anywhere else than on this body. Ever again. The pale skin was smooth and soft and warm… and again his heart began to run but this time out of a completely different reason. He knew the signs. He was falling for this man and he wasn't sure how to feel about it, because all he knew about Stephen was that he was a cop and obviously a nice guy, that he looked too fucking good to be true and that he had the courage of a lion, but… what else did he know? Nothing to be exact. Five hours. He knew him for a total of five hours now and that was practically nothing. Was he in a relationship or not? Men or women? How old was he? And even if he was into guys, was there a chance that a guy like Stephen had interest in someone like Phil?

No… he didn't know Stephen. How could it be that he was falling for someone he actually didn't know?

_Not yet…_

"Phil? Yer okay?"

A good question. Well, he wasn't sure…

Pulling his hand back, it almost felt like Stephen tried to keep his hand there, let Phil's hand slip out from under his only reluctantly and Phil tried hard not to read too much into it. Eventually Phil's hand was resting on his own leg again and his eyes jumped to his soda. A safe place. His hand though… felt empty and cold.

_You're an idiot, Brooks. He came to you, means he wants to keep contact. And don't fool yourself, you _want_ to fall for him. You wanted it from the first minute. And this is only day one. There's so much time now to figure things out. Take it slow._

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

_Oh, yeah, very smooth, Brooks…_

Stephen was very quiet for a moment and from the corner of his eye Phil saw something shift in the other man's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I…" he wanted to apologize, but Stephen cut him off.

"It's okay," Stephen replied then, bracing his elbows on the table as he leant forward. "No, not anymore. Yer know, when yer are lying in hospital, yer have lots of time to think about yer life and what is important or not. I… she wasn't the one."

Good. That was good. He was free. But… not good. He'd been in a relationship with a woman. On the other hand… that didn't necessarily mean that he wasn't into guys, too? Right?

"What about yer?"

He watched small droplets run down the glass and his fingers which were circling it, blinking a few times while pondering if he should say it aloud. That he was gay. If it was a good idea to do it now, or if he should wait for a better moment.

"The right person never came along," he sighed. _Until now,_ he added in his mind. "And those I lost my heart to didn't want me."

From the corner of his eye he saw it. Again something shifted in the blue orbs and it was back, that softneness and because he needed to see it right now, needed to let it was over him, he met Stephen's gaze again. Blue… so blue, even here in this dimmed light.

Leaning forward, Stephen braced his forarms on the table and folded his hands… resting them close to Phil's. Stephen… was close… and involuntary Phil's other hand which was still lying on his legs clenched to a fist as he willed himself not to reach out like a starving man.

"Those people were blind. They missed the best thing tha could happen to them," he heard Stephen say and the thick Irish accent wrapped around those words in a forbidden sexy way.

_This is going too fast,_ he thought at the fuzzy warmth which grew in his chest.

"Huh... I know you're trying to be nice here, but you don't know me, Stephen, you…"

"Maybe I don't know yer… yet. But I know enough to see tha yer are someone special," Stephen cut him off softly. "I spent a lot of time thinking about what has happened and…" Stephen's gaze dropped to his hands. "I'm serious, Phil. Yer had a gun pointing at yer head, still yer refused to leave me. And then yer go and say yer going with me when Pinky told me to get up…" A sigh. Heavy, strained. And maybe Stephen was back at that moment, too, this very second. "Yer knew they would shoot yer, too. Gosh, Phil, yer _are_ special…"

_Stop saying things like that,_ Phil thought desperately, _don't put me on a podest. God knows I don't belong there…_

How should he ever have a fucking chance to focus on Stephen as a friend, not more, if the other man kept saying things his heart latched on to all too willingly? And above all, he could never measure up to the picture Stephen obviously had of him, but that was the problem, wasn't it? The same problem he had when it came to Stephen. Here he was sitting with a good-looking, nice guy who had jumped between him and a gun. Going down together… he would have done it, would have died for that package of a handsome hero and even after three months of thinking about all this, about getting a sober view on the events, he didn't regret the decision he had made back then. But just like Stephen, he had painted a picture of the man who had saved his life. A picture that had obviously taken residence in his heart without him noticing it.

What if the spell that those events had left on them wore off?

It was a shy touch that shook him out of his thoughts. Stephen had his hands still folded, still resting close to his own. A finger was stretched out, the fingertip touching his knuckles. His eyes were still fixed on the blue orbs and he wished he could get lost in them, roam Stephen's mind a bit to find out what kind of feelings the other man had for him.

_Fuck_, he muttered in his head. _Fuck this, why can't I for once just try to be happy? He's here, he wants to get to know me better and this is the wrong moment to slip into depressing thoughts. Fuck. Be thankful, be happy, enjoy the moment._

And if he shoved all the dark thoughts aside… he _was_ happy. In fact he was feeling really good, wasn't he? Right now the world was okay. Finally. Because he had all he had wished for.

Still… there was one question that nagged at him, that he couldn't leave unasked…

"Why did you take the bullet for me?" he said then quietly.

Was it really out of habit? He didn't ask it aloud, but it clung to his question and something shifted in the depths of the blue orbs, as if a curtain was drawn, before Stephen looked down at their hands and Phil almost expected the counterquestion why he would have walked right into death with him. But there was no counterquestion, only silence. The finger kept touching his knuckles though.

Then suddenly Stephen looked back up to him, opening his mouth to speak, but the answer never passed his lips, stopped by a hard clap to Stephen's shoulder and loud voices invading their little world. The touch on his hand vanished. A second later three men dropped on the free chairs at the table.

"Heard you're back among the living and sentenced to do paperwork, Farrelly."

The words were wrapped into a rough voice. Phil let his eyes roam its owner. Dirty blond, unruly hair, a cheeky grin and the guy looked like someone he didn't want to run into in a dark alley. In fact, he didn't want to run into him at all, because somehow this man had a touch of… being a lunatic. His eyes jumped over to the other two man. The man beside him was rather lean, not that tall, watching Phil with bright and inquiring eyes and his hair… one side blond, the other black… was reminding him of… Two Face. The third guy… well. Big, broad, the long black hair falling over his shoulder like a mane the sharp grey eyes flicking back and forth between Stephen and him.

"Ambrose…" Stephen sighed, quirking an eyebrow. "Who let yer out of yer padded cell?"

"He's on day-release," Two Face chuckled, his gaze jumping over to Stephen, who in turn looked over to the big guy, who kept a straight face.

"Oi, Reigns, who are yer trying to scare with tha face, huh?"

The guy was still not batting an eye.

"Nah, we had to stop him when he wanted to tie a bow into the arms of a suspect and now he's grumpy," Ambrose said, shrugging his shoulders, before his attention focused on Phil. "Who's your little friend here?"

For some reason Stephen seemed to be not very happy about the unexpected company and Phil could only agree. He didn't like newcomers. Something about them was… creepy. But most of all he wanted to be alone with Stephen.

"Uhm, tha's Phil," Stephen said then slowly, giving Phil and apologetic look. "Ambrose, Rollins, Reigns," he introduced the three men to Phil. "Ex-members of the Special Forces and now they have SWAT printed on their asses."

Leaning over to Rollins, Ambrose drawled: "I pay, you go get it. A beer for everyone and burgers."

"Uhm, thank you, but no alcohol and no burger for me," Phil said quickly and got odd gazes in response.

"What? No alcohol and no burger? What are you, a girl?" Ambrose asked, his eyebrows rising to his hairline.

"I'm pescetarian and I don't drink alcohol."

"Pesce… what?" Ambrose muttered, looking over at his friends. "He's what? That something religious?"

A shrugging of shoulders followed.

"I eat fish but no meat. Whatever," Phil sighed, wanting nothing more than to be alone with Stephen again. "Gentleman, Stephen and I, we've just been having a nice conversation, you know? Could you please have your drinks at another table than this one? If you don't mind?"

"And no alcohol?" Ambrose cut in. "So you don't like meat, don't drink alcohol and you want Farrelly to yourself." Again Ambrose looked over to his friends, a pretty stupid grin stretching his lips. "And he can't take a joke. He isn't a girl, he's gay."

"Ambrose…" Stephen sighed once more as he leaned back, wiping a hand down his face and Phil watched a shadow cast over those baby blues.

Baby blues which looked anywhere but him.

Something in Phil snapped. Maybe it was because he had been in similar situations before and none of them had turned out good, or maybe it was because Stephen didn't look at him, didn't tell Ambrose to shut the fuck. It probably wasn't fair to expect him doing that, but after Stephen had taken a bullet for him, Phil somehow hoped that the other man would stand up for him now.

Slowly getting up from his chair, Phil braced his hands on the table and said, trying to keep his voice neutral: "You know what? You're right, I _am_ gay. I'm sorry, Stephen, but I can think of something better than to waste my time with narrow-minded dipshits. Good night, gentleman."

With that he left the table without gazing back, walking straight ouf the bar. It was out. He was gay. And he couldn't file Stephen's reaction to Ambrose's comment about him being gay in and yes, he hadn't had the guts to wait for Stephen's reaction after he'd admitted that he was gay.

Because in this world were being homosexual was absolutely nothing spectacular and totally okay, it was still a problem to _be_ homosexual. Contradictorily and sad… but true.

The sun was already crawling deep over the horizon when he stepped out. He hadn't come far when he heard his name being called.

"Phil! Phil, wait!"

The pace of the steps following him indicated that Stephen was about to run to catch up. His own steps quickened, too. He actually didn't know why he was running away now, since he usually wasn't a coward, but tonight it was… different. He couldn't have stayed in there, no matter how much he wanted to spend his time with Stephen, because those Neanderthals had made him admit now what he wanted to tell Stephen later… when they knew each other better. A hand closed around his shoulder gently, stopping his retreat and as gently he felt the hand urging him to turn around and face the other man. Dropping his eyes to the pavement, he did turn around. The hand stayed on his shoulder.

"You should go back to your colleagues," he muttered, still not gazing up.

"No." The word came out sharp and clear. Good? Bad? Phil had no idea. "Ambrose can be an idiot sometimes and the other two aren't much better. Let's forget about what has happened in there. Okay?"

Sighing he dipped his head back, closed his eyes for a second and thought that he should stop acting so silly, because, fuck, they had been in a much worse situation like this now. All the time he'd been waiting to see this man again and now…? It was ridiculous. Everything was good, it fucking was, and he was about to screw it all up because he was slipping into being the depressed heap of self-pity again and again he'd been for the past months…

"Look, I…" he began, not really knowing what to say though and so he just stated the obvious. "Stephen, I _am_ gay, okay? I didn't make a joke in there."

That's what I am, who I am. Accept me the way I am or leave.

… but please… _don't_ leave…

"I know. I already knew it back then. Yer wanted to ask me out for a coffee and told me not to be homophobic. I mean, hey, a guy asking another guy out for a coffee…?" Stephen replied, putting a tiny grin on top and Phil knew that he only tried to lighten the mood a bit.

But Phil couldn't bring himself to play along.

"Your collagues will make dump jokes about it and you having a gay friend," he muttered. "They'll probably think you're gay, too."

It wouldn't be the first time that a guy he liked had said that him being gay wasn't a problem and suddenly broke off their friendship because of dumb jokes.

"Maybe, but I don't care. Those hours back then have been the worst of me life and I'm only here now because _yer_ were there. I thought I wouldn't get out there alive and it's been yer who made me hang on. And I know it sounds silly, but while I was stuck in hospital and rehab, it was the idea of going for a beer with yer tha helped me to get back on me feet. I want to know who yer are, Phil. I really do. _I've waited the last three months for this_. Don't tell me now to fuck off," Stephen said quietly and as Phil finally locked gazes with him, he found nothing but… softness. The hand on his shoulder smoothed down his arm slowly, stopping at his own hand to linger there for a moment, before the touch eventually vanished. "Let me at least give yer a ride home. Please."

Big blue eyes begged him to say yes and what else could he say but… yes? He wanted to spend as much time as possible with this man and there was also a sorry lying on his tongue. Sorry for being an idiot. Sorry for causing you a guilty conscience when none of this was your fault.

Stephen had just spilled his heart and Phil could barely believe what he'd just heard. Things that made his heart jump… and he had to go an ruin it by being irrational.

"Yeah," he replied quietly.

The sorry didn't pass his lips though.

He watched as relief washed over the other man's face and it made him wonder what he had done to deserve him…

The ride to Phil's apartment was quiet and while Phil stared out of the window, thinking about what had happened in the past hours, Stephen obviously didn't dare to say a word. The way wasn't long and soon they stopped in front of the house. Stephen followed him silently up to the front of the door, where Phil turned around so suddenly that the other man almost bumped into him.

"Stephen… I'm sorry for acting irrational back at the bar. I don't know what's wrong with me," he muttered, dropping his gaze to the ground.

"No, 's okay," Stephen replied softly, lifting a hand to touch him, but the hand fell back to his side immediately.

"No… finally I get to see you again after three months of not knowing if you're alive or not and I screw it up. It's not okay. Fuck…"

"Phil… look at me, please?" he heard him say and looked up slowly. "It _is_ okay. The last three months have been hard for both of us and hard times take their toll. And I should have told Ambrose to stop. Can we try it again? Not at a cop bar the next time."

_Can you just stop being Mr. Wonderful, please? _

He tasted the words on his tongue, but what he said was: "When will you be off work tomorrow?"

"Around 5 p.m."

"Okay, great, then how about I pick you up and I'll cook us some gay-food? I promise to have some totally manly beer for you."

"Sounds perfect."

And then Stephen gave him that smile again, that sweet smile that pushed a button deep in Phil and caused him to pull the other man in for a tight hug because… it was okay to do this. Broad arms circled his back and for this moment the world was perfect again.

"Okay then… night, Biscuit," Phil said after a moment, letting go of Stephen only reluctantly.

"Yeah, night," Stephen murmured and stepped back.

With that Phil turned around and opened the door, heard steps walk away from him and when he gazed back over his shoulder, he saw him walk down the stairs. Stephen took three steps. And stopped. And then he heard him heave a heavy sigh.

_This is not right…_

Stepping out again, he let the door fall close, watched as Stephen sat dow on the stairs without looking back. Another sigh. Hands being brushed through the red hair. And Phil was already walking towards him before he knew what he was doing and Stephen seemed to notice him only when he was standing right behind him, turning his head only a bit in Phil's direction.

The night had arrived, bringing cool air along. The falling darkness was breached by the dirty yellow of the street lights and the illuminated windows of the houses. People were walking along the street. Cars passed them. No one looked up to them.

And no one cared as Phil sat down behind Stephen, wrapping his arms around the broad frame to pull him back tightly. His hand found to the nasty scar on the other man's belly, covering it. There was a sigh again. This time soft. He felt a hand settle on his own, the one covering the scar and he also felt fingers on the wrist of his other hand, felt his arm being pulled tighter around the body in his arms.

Ease…

Stephen had said yes when Phil had asked him out although he knew that he was gay... and now he allowed him to cling to him like an octopus, actually had pulled him even closer…

_Don't read too much into it,_ Phil warned himself.

This friendship… bond… thingy between them needed time to breathe and grow to show what it actually was. Raising his own hopes for more wasn't a good idea right now, because the chance that he would end up disappointed and hurt was too big.

But…

"You haven't answered my question yet, Biscuit," he murmured and the way Stephen dipped his head a bit forward gave away that he knew what question Phil meant.

And then he did something Phil wouldn't have expected right now. Pressing back against him, Stephen tilted his head back against Phil's shoulder, turning his face until his temple rested against Phil's cheek and the red hair tickled Phil's skin, while one of his hands found a home on the back of Phil's neck, the soft pad of a thumb caressing the skin there… chasing goosebumps all over his body. Gosh, he loved it.

"Have yer ever looked at someone and felt like yer need to protect them at all costs?"

The statement was spoken very quietly, the words hanging in the air and it took a long second until the message sunk into Phil's mind, but when it did, any thought narrowed on those words. He'd hoped that Stephen hadn't done it out of habit, that there was more behind his action, but…

Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard against the sweet ache that exploded in his chest. One that shouldn't be there now. Not when he didn't know what way lying hidden behind those blue eyes. Not when he couldn't allow himself to fall head over heels for this man. _Not yet._ But he couldn't stop it.

This… just wasn't fair…

* * *

**A/N**

Now. Here we go, the journey starts.

At possible Shield-fans reading this, don't hit me, the boys will get away better in upcoming chapters ;3

Aaand… reviews are much appreciated :D


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2 for the start into the weekend!

Hope you'll like this, too :3

my reviewers: Thanks, guys, for itching my muse to write!

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_"Have yer ever looked at someone and felt like yer need to protect them at all costs?"_

He couldn't say anything because this… it had wiped his mind clear of anything but Stephen's words. How was he supposed to understand this?

_Ask him! _his heart said while his mind huffed to stop wishing for something that wouldn't happen… couldn't happen…

_Why not?_

This felt too good. Too good to be true and too good to mean nothing at the same time. It _had_ to mean something, but… he shouldn't push it, shouldn't push Stephen. Here Stephen had admitted something that one usually wouldn't tell a person one barely knows and it was so much more Phil could have hoped for to be honest. It hadn't been out of habit and… Stephen was alive and here with him. A few hours ago he hadn't even known if Stephen had survived.

They had time. And he should give them that time.

His mind wrapped around Stephen's words and worshipped them and…

"Phil, I… I'm sorry if I said something wrong," he heard Stephen say just above a whisper.

The hand on Phil's neck suddenly seemed to hesitate in its touch…

"No, you didn't, Biscuit," Phil breathed, tightening his embrace to underline his own words and with it he turned his face just a bit more towards Stephen's. "It's just…"

It sounds like there is more…

He didn't say it, but obviously Stephen was aware of the message his words had been carrying.

"I know how this sounds to yer but it's what I felt back then and… still feel. _I've been dead_ and being dead _shows_ yer tha a life is finite," Stephen said and Phil's chest constricted painfully. "Life is too short to not to say what I think and feel and live by it. Yer know, back at the bank, when I saw yer look at me, I… I just got tha feeling and then yer smiled and… I wanted to wait outside the bank for yer to catch yer off. I wanted to get into a conversation with yer somehow. And then I saw those guys come in and I saw the guns and I needed to make sure yer won't get in the line of fire…" While the hand on the back of Phil's neck moved to dive into the raven hair, Stephen's other one dropped to the one covering the scar, fingers slipping between Phil's. "I can't remember a moment when I have felt as good as I've felt in the past hours with yer now. I've been given a second chance and I want yer to be a part of it…"

Stephen trailed off and the absence of words created room for… something… Phil had no name for, but it was crystal-clear and singing and it was strong enough to crack and break the last bit of self-restraint not to give in to his heart too soon. And this very moment he wished he could crawl right under Stephen's skin because holding him close was by far not close enough.

He didn't even notice the tears which fell from his eyes until he heard Stephen say a bit shakily: "Making yer cry wasn't me intention."

Puffing a single, tear-stained laughter, Phil replied: "It's okay, Biscuit, I'm just so… so happy..." Dipping his head a bit forward, he pressed his face firmer against Stephen's as he placed a kiss there that wore the cover of an innocent touch. "When you stopped breathing and they brought me away from you…" His name was whispered soothingly. "The last thing I saw was the medics as they tried to bring you back, I thought I would never see you again and it killed me not to know if you're alive… or not…" He took a deep breath to calm down as his heart began to pound, like every time those memories came up. And the tears kept falling. "And now you're here and you're telling me all this and there's so much I want to say, but…"

But… he had no idea where to begin and how to put in words how he felt. Relieved, happy, confused, unsure, excited didn't even describe the current of emotions which were surging through him and there was _so much more_.

_I think I'm falling in love with you…_

"It's okay," Stephen murmured, bringing the hand from the raven hair to Phil's face to gently wipe some of the tears away.

"I wanted to get to know you from the first moment I saw you, Biscuit," he said just above a whisper, not sure if he hadn't said too much of those things for which it was too soon to be revealed. But Stephen knew that he was gay, had known it already back at the bank and still he'd said yes, came back to him and he'd said all this, let him hug him and obviously he wanted this bodily closeness and the more Phil mused about this, the more confused he became. "I would have died with you back then. I have never…" And for a brief moment he was silent, but there was this part of him that whispered that he needed to say this, for himself and for Stephen who had spilled his heart to him. "I have never before felt something like this."

There, it was out and it was as innocent as it was heavy with meaning and maybe he could have chosen other words, but since Stephen had decided to say what he was feeling, he could do it as well. And it _was_ what he was feeling. Definitely. This was… addictive and he had fallen for this drug so very fast…

There was a moment of silence again and Phil noticed that the other man's heart was beating a little faster now, the quickened pace a faint beating against his palm. There was still so much to say, but maybe not today, because this silence didn't feel like it needed to be filled with words.

Minutes passed and too soon he heard a regretful sigh and then: "It's late. I gotta go."

There was a _I don't want to_ clinging to the words and Phil heard it.

"Yeah, I know," he replied quietly, letting a _then stay_ trickle into it, but he knew that Stephen had to go.

The hand on his face left, as did the one which was blanketing his own and he knew it was time to let go, if he wanted or not. They stood up then, hands letting go only reluctantly and when Stephen turned around to him, Phil found a silly joy dancing in his chest at that special sweet and little smile that he found on the other man's lips again, the one that made the blue eyes sparkle. Even now in the almost darkness.

His hand settled on Stephen's side, twisting into his shirt to keep him close, wanting to make sure he wouldn't leave, probably to anchor himself and maybe it was just all three of it and more. A big hand came up, finding its way into the raven hair once more, curling into it and for long seconds they stood like this and for a moment it almost seemed as if Stephen wanted to pull him closer, lean in to kiss him and Phil's heart stumbled… but then the fingers unfurled again and the hand left.

"Five p. m. at the department tomorrow?" Stephen murmured and Phil missed his touch already, thinking that if this wouldn't work out between them, whether as being friends or even more, that it would most likely break him.

"I'm gonna be there," Phil replied softly, feeling the fabric slip out of his fingers as Stephen stepped back, watching as he turned around to walk down the stairs.

His eyes followed the tall figure as he walked away but not without turning back one more time and although it was hard to make out in the barely there light of the street lights, Phil knew it was there, that special smile, just as he knew that the sparkling was still making those blue eyes shine and while Stephen walked away and eventually climbed into a car, Phil felt a wonderful ease and warm happiness settle over him because… because this time it wasn't a good-bye with no guarantee of seeing Stephen again but a start into something new and good.

Carrying this in his heart, he made his way to his apartment and it was this precious combination of ease and happiness that stayed with him and guarded him until he slipped into a sleep that was for the first time within the past three months… peaceful.

x

His gaze swept over the people who passed him, over chairs with dubious persons, doors, desks as he searched for a certain copper tinge in the mass of people. Except for a constant ringing of phones and a loud complaint from suspects every now and then it was surprisingly quiet in here, but there was no red hair to be seen and no heavy Irish accent to be heard, leaving him forlorn in the midst of ignorant busyness and on top of it all being in a police department made him feel guilty for… whatever.

He'd been waiting outside for Stephen to come out, but when his phone showed ten past five, he felt a ridiculous anxiety tug at his insides that Stephen might have changed his mind about wanting Phil to be a part of his life. One minute later he'd sent a message to the other man. Two minutes and no answer later his feet had carried him into the building, brought him here and now? A good question. A start would be to ask someone…

And so he sighed, shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walked over to what looked like a front desk, thinking that he was acting really silly here by being close to freaking over nothing, because why should Stephen have changed his mind?

The man behind the desk was focused on various papers lying in front of him and didn't look up as Phil stepped up to him. For a last time Phil gazed at his phone that still showed no message. His eyes hopped over to the man who perfectly ignored him. He could just walk out again and wait for Stephen there. He could do that, because Stephen hadn't changed his mind. Yup, he would turn around now and go out to wait there.

"Uhm, sorry, sir, I'm searching for Mister Stephen Farrelly," Phil said, tilting his head a bit to get eye-contact with the man.

Wonderful how his brain and his mouth didn't work together.

After a moment it seemed to sink into the other man's brain that someone had spoken to him and blinking once he looked up.

"What?"

"Stephen Farrelly," Phil repeated. "Is he here?"

The guy put the papers aside, straightening up and the expression in his eyes went from absentminded to scrutinizing in heartbeat, feeding Phil's baseless feeling of guilt.

"Your name, sir?" the officer asked forced politely and for a second Phil had a flashback to those moments when he'd been standing in one of the many police departments during the last three months in his vain attempt to find Stephen.

"_Hi, uhm, I'm searching for someone. I actually don't know his last name and I'm not sure if he's an officer or a detective, but his name is Stephen. Tall, all muscles, red hair and…"_

_The officer behind the desk shook his head no._

"_I'm sorry, sir, but we're not allowed to give information about police officers."_

"_But he… he saved my life during a bank robbery and I want to thank him."_

_A forced smile spread over the otherwise blank expression on the other man's face._

"_I'm sorry, sir."_

"_I just want to know if he's alive. _Please._"_

_Polite silence._

"_Okay, okay. Here's my card. If you know him, then please give it to him and tell him that I owe him a beer and star-shaped cinnamon biscuits. Thank you."_

"My name's Phil Brooks. We have…" A date, his heart suggested, but his mind stopped his tongue from forming it. "… an appointment. Maybe you could…"

He noticed the other man's eyes flick to something or someone somewhere behind his right shoulder, before a big hand settled on it to turn him around gently.

"Nah, don't listen to him, Joe. It's not an appointment, it's a date. He's gonna cook for me," a voice behind him said, heavy with a thick accent and a much audible grin.

Stephen. Phil watched as the grin became a soft smile and once more he wanted to get lost in those gentle eyes and felt the tips of his ears heat up, because here was this forbidden handsome man, looking at him like this while saying those words which had been meant as a joke… but described what Phil actually wished this would be. Maybe this wasn't an appointment, but it also wasn't a _date_.

The hand from his shoulder moved up to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug that ended much too soon. So soon actually that he barely had enough time to put his arms around Stephen to answer the hug. What a shame…

And all of it left his standing there as a gooey mush with red-tipped ears….

"I'm sorry for letting yer wait," Stephen apologized quietly. "Forgot the time over the paperwork."

"Oh, that's okay, I just thought…" _I just thought that you maybe don't want me anymore._ "… that I could as well come in and search for you."

Funny how any self-confidence left him when it came to Stephen.

There was a fleeting expression in Stephen's eyes what told him that the other man really felt bad for letting him wait and suddenly Phil felt even more ridiculous for acting and thinking like he'd done. No, Stephen wouldn't change his mind.

"No, it's not okay. We said five and I'm too late. I don't want yer to think tha I forgot about yer, because I didn't and…"

Laying a hand on the broad chest to stop the apologizing rambling that was actually cute, because Stephen looked much like a small boy who's trying to explain why he has eaten sweets when he should not, and he gave the other man a reassuring smile.

"It _is_ okay. Stop worrying," Phil assured, adding then with a wink: "Well… you could carry the groceries if it makes you feel better. We got to get some stuff for the Thai Curry I planned for tonight. That okay for you?"

"Perfect," Stephen replied and graced him with a new kind of smile, one that made his knees go weak and Phil began to wonder how he should get through this evening and every single moment from now on without jumping this man, when he used smile against him that could be used to make you surrender in a fucking second.

"Farrelly!" a low voice cut through the noise around them and Stephen looked over to its owner, who was coming over to them. "So, you think you can let the pen drop just like that and leave the shit to me, huh?"

The guy was tall, all muscles yet leaner than Stephen. Bronze skin, heavily tattooed arms, kind of a military haircut and… pretty. This guy was actually _pretty_. A term Phil usually only used when it came to women, because men were good-looking, handsome, but not pretty. His eyes though, clear, sharp and the color of a cold grey, gave him the strange feeling of being weighed, valued, but not yet filed as okay.

"Sure, yer are me partner and I'm still not fully cleared, so it's yer job to clean up after me," Stephen grinned and patted the other man's shoulder heartily, earning a raised eyebrow from the newcomer. "And more important, me date is here." There was a funny feeling in Phil's chest as Stephen once more referred to him as his date jokingly… or not? "This is me partner, Randy. Randy, this is Phil."

This was Stephen's partner. His _pretty_ partner. Who had looked at him like at a suspect, but now this wary gaze changed to… a happy one? Phil watched as Randy put an arm around Stephen's neck. And Phil didn't like it. Not the least bit. But well, he would see Randy more often now if things went good, wouldn't he, so he should make friends with this man. And he really should stop being jealous and silly.

"Uhm, hi," Phil said and willed a smile to his face as he held a hand out to the man.

"Hi! Finally I get to meet you," Randy grinned and shook the outstretched hand. "Stephen told me what has happened. Thank you for saving his pale Irish ass."

"Yeah, well, he saved mine first, so…"

"No, man, most people wouldn't do what you have done. I mean it. Thank you."

There was a short pause in which Randy gazed at Stephen in a way that Phil could only describe as deeply affectionate and a bit as if he was looking at something very precious, something you have lost and just found again, with the kind of relief you feel if you realize it isn't irrecoverably lost. But then the arm around Stephen's neck pulled him firmer against the other man's side while Randy's other hand patted Stephen's belly friendly.

"The whole day he nagged me about you," Randy stated, pursing his lips and Stephen dropped his gaze to the floor, grinning, and wasn't there the idea of a blush on those pale cheeks? "He told me you're gonna cook for him. Careful, he'll eat you out of house and home."

Delivering a warning elbow to Randy's side, Stephen muttered: "Shut up before Phil changes his mind and I end up not getting dinner."

_Not gonna happen, never, no chance,_ Phil thought. If cooking meant Stephen would stay with him 24/7, then he would _cook_.

There was another tug of jealousy as Randy moved and pulled Stephen in a full-grown hug that was answered by the other man with an equal… affection and when they stepped apart after a moment, Randy's hand lingered on Stephen neck. A tad to long for Phil's taste.

Eventually they left the department to get some stuff at the grocery store and shopping had never before been so… nice. It was amusing and unsettling at the same time how much it felt like… normal, right, like they had been doing this on regular basis for years now. And when he'd been standing in front of the meat counter because he wanted to do Stephen the favor and put some beady-eyed animal into Stephen's half of the Curry, he felt himself being dragged away from the counter.

I want a vegetarian Curry, Stephen had told him with that goddamn smile on his lips.

They had been talking about random stuff and Phil had seldom felt so at ease, hadn't laughed that much in a long while. Chopping the vegetables had ended up in a tiny competition with thankfully no chopped off fingers.

And it all felt so normal, so every day life like and so new and exciting at the same time.

Smiling Phil glanced over his shoulder, watching the other man while he put the used chopping boards and kitchen knives into the dishwasher like a good boy.

"How long are the two of you already partners?" Phil asked while stirring the vegetables in the pan.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Stephen sit on perch himself on the counter beside him, legs dangling over the edge. A big had reached out and stole a piece of carrot right out of the pan.

"Careful. You'll burn your fingers, Biscuit," Phil warned, grinning as Stephen wanted to thieve another piece but drew his hand back quickly as Phil reached out to bat it away. "So?"

"Almost seven years," Stephen replied then. "We've been through a lot of shit together."

Reaching for the coconut milk and the spices, he gave the other man a glance, finding a slightly absentminded expression on his face. "You're very close, huh? Giving your partner such a hug? I mean, you didn't tell him that you leave the land, you just called it a day…" he trailed off, letting the unspoken words do their job.

Barely visible lines of sorrow appeared on the handsome face and Phil wondered if he'd said something wrong. For a brief moment Stephen dipped his head forward with a soft sigh.

Then: "He's me best friend and… he got shot about four years ago. It was a close call. Too damn close. Shift was over and he asked me if I wanted to go out for a beer. I said no. Fuck, I didn't even look at him tha moment, practically threw the word at him because I was in a rush. He went alone and at the bar he… huh, he wanted to settle a dispute between two guys and one of them pulled out a gun. Two bullets to the chest. He almost died back then. Gosh, I have felt so guilty, I… it wouldn't have happened if I had come with him. And ever since we do this hug-thing. Just in case, yer know?"

While Stephen had been speaking, Phil had stopped stirring the Curry, gazing over to Stephen instead and his if he had felt silly for being jealous earlier, then he had no words for how silly he felt now after hearing this. And he tried hard not to think too much about how Stephen must have been feeling to hear about what had happened to Randy and while hoping he would get through and… The guilt. The fear of losing a friend. The helplessness. But although he did his best not to think too much about it, he felt a pang of sadness and with it came the faint taste of all those feelings, because he knew them. And maybe Stephen read it in his eyes, because there was a sad little smile tugging at his lips.

"Hey, don't look at me like tha," Stephen said. "Things are okay again."

Phil looked at Stephen for a long moment, his eyes wandering the handsome face, noticing how the fine lines of sorrow faded as a fond expression shone up. For any reason it felt like Stephen hadn't referred only to Randy's injury in that last sentence, but also to _them_. And he was right, wasn't he?

"Yeah, things are alright again," Phil replied quietly. "But you look sad and I don't like seeing you sad."

Hopping from the counter, Stephen stepped up behind Phil and leaned forward until his chest touched Phil's back as he reached around him, dipping a finger into the Curry. The Curry spiced finger was lifted and from the corner of his eye Phil saw as lips he… he sighed. Yeah, he wanted to kiss those lips which wrapped around the finger. There was a tiny and soft sucking sound right beside his ear. Bastard…

"Tastes good."

Stephen's voice was low as he spoke, a bit rough and suddenly Phil was achingly aware of the muscled chest that pressed against his back. For the second time today there was this funny feeling in his chest and it was getting stronger with every breath he took, because there was cinnamon, this special scent of cinnamon and _Stephen_ that had become that much a part of his memory that he could even smell it when Stephen wasn't there. His whole body reacted to this man, his mere presence. There was this need to have him close, this urge to touch him and being touched by him. His skin _tingled_ at every single of Stephen's touches. His heart ran and jumped. Feelings, humming in his chest.

Involuntary he pressed back against him and the second he did, there was this tiny voice in his head, telling him that this was only the second day, _their_ second day and that there was so much time.

Don't rush things, it said. Don't hope for things, it said.

The hand sneaked back to the pan and no matter how good it felt to have Stephen this close, Phil shook the momentary zone out off and mock-growled: "I swear if you don't stop stealing food, I'll spank you."

"Oh, yeah, now I'm scared, Bambi," Stephen snorted, shaking his head softly.

"If you think I…" Phil began as he turned around, coming chest to chest with the other man, but he trailed off then, blinking twice, before quirking an eyebrow. "Wait. Did you just call me _Bambi_?"

"Yeah, I did," Stephen grinned. "Yer look at me doe-eyed, yer fur is soft," he explained while tousling the raven hair, "and yer are cute."

The hand stayed in Phil's hair, not tousling but brushing through it to the back of his neck, gently curling around it and there was a gentle pulling and Phil couldn't help but follow it, leaning closer to Stephen while a hand of his own came up to the thick forearm, holding on to it. Chest to chest… so close… and he felt a heart pound… not sure if it was his own or maybe even… Stephen's?

And suddenly there was a breathtaking softness lying in the heavy Irish accent as Stephen said quietly: "See? Yer are doing it again... looking at me doe-eyed, like a fawn…" And Stephen seemed to hesitate for a second, indecisiveness glinting in his eyes. "Bambi…" he whispered and it chased a shiver down Phil's spine…

* * *

**A word or two would be love!**


	3. Chapter 3

A shorter chapter this time, but, well, I hope you'll enjoy it!

My special thanks go to BrightAsNight, LegacyChick, SparkenRose, Jinx302, Pleb and PP for leaving golden words to lighten my writer's mood :)

* * *

Phil was caught in the moment and gazing into the bright blue eyes he fell, dropping into their depths and a quiet voice in the back of his mind whispered that he should say something, _do_ something, like leaning in and just kiss this man, but he was too lost and there was still this lingering fear that he could ruin this by taking it as being more than just friendship… when it maybe _wasn't_ more. But how could this _not_ be more…?

And then the moment was over. Just like that. There was a twitch around Stephen's eyes before he let go of Phil, stepping back with a tiny smile on his lips that spoke of embarassment and apology and Phil thought that it was good that he hadn't kissed him and that, no matter how much he wanted this to happen… it needed to be Stephen who made the first move.

"The Curry," Stephen murmured then, turning away to set the table.

Phil didn't stop him. Instead he resumed finishing the Curry, smiling a bit to himself because this had been… interesting.

"So… Biscuit and Bambi, huh?" he said, allowing a bit amusement to lace into it. "Sounds like a tv-show. The cop and the nerd."

"To me it sounds like the most successful movie of all times," he heard Stephen answer so calm and gentle that it went straight to his heart, making him forget how to breathe for a second and he had to lean on the counter, because suddenly he felt his knees go weak.

_Do you even know what you're doing to me?_

"Can you… can you take the rice from the stove?" Phil mumbled. "I, uhm… I need to go to the bathroom."

With that he started to walk out of the kitchen, but just as he turned around it was a hand on his belly that stopped him.

"Yer okay?"

Was he? He didn't need to listen closely to what his body, his mind, fuck, his heart were trying to tell him because his whole being was practically singing that he'd never been more okay in his whole life and maybe he was _too_ okay this very moment. His body was humming with anticipation and excitement, with hope and the need to lace his fingers into the wonderful copper tinged hair and claim those lips. Only that it wasn't a good idea to do this now, no matter how much Stephen's words, his actions seemed to speak otherwise. But he couldn't risk ruining it. And that was why he needed a few minutes alone, because if not… he couldn't guarantee anything…

He couldn't stop his hand from settle over Stephen's on his belly though as he replied: "Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry. I'll be back in a minute."

With that he slipped out of the half-embrace and made his way to the bathroom, where he locked the door and braced his hands on the sink, gazing at his reflection in the mirror and he was met by a smile that resulted of a giddy happiness that danced in his chest.

This… chemistry… between them, it was sweet torture, was killing him and giving him life at the same time. It was like a mental petals plucking in a constant he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not. But as good as this was, he needed to be patient. There was still a chance that he misread the signs, no matter how clearly they seemed.

I think I'm falling in love with you. It was what he'd been thinking yesterday but… scrap that and make it a fuck, yes, I _am_ falling in love with you. He was and he was falling fast. There was no point in trying to find a hold because it was already too late and all he could hope for was that Stephen would return his feelings someday. And if not? It would be a hard and painful way to go back to the crossroads of his feelings and follow the way of being only friends.

A deep breath. A second and a third. Closing his eyes, he hung his head and kept on breathing deeply until he felt his heart go back to beating normally, no jumping, no running, no pounding against his chest in excitement. Get a grip, the voice of reason piped up somewhere in the back of his head and with a sigh he wiped a hand through his face, attempting to take off the rose-colored glasses he obviously wore.

Again he gazed up to his reflection in the mirror and thought that he still wasn't used to see himself this happy, because for the past three months it had been sorrow that had greeted him every time he'd been looking at himself.

Giving himself a curt nod, he straightened up and went back to the kitchen, where he found the dinner waiting on the table and a pacing Stephen, who immediately walked over to him as he stepped into the room, asking if he really was okay.

"Stop worrying, Biscuit, I'm more than okay," Phil assured with a smile. "Come on, let's have dinner," he added, allowing his index finger to accidentally hook into Stephen's as he passed him.

Not even an hour later they were sprawling on the couch with cold soda and beer and cookie dough ice cream with whipped cream. The dinner had gone smooth and with safe topics. Their jobs. And compared to Stephen's, being an IT technician suddenly seemed to be deathly boring to Phil. On the other hand… computer usually didn't try to shoot one. Definitely a plus for his own job. The safe topics though had been peppered a little with… _glances_, of his own and from Stephen. Nice.

Picking in his ice, Phil gazed up to the other man and found a slightly absentminded, pondering expression on his face and once more he wished he could take a look on what was hidden behind those blue eyes.

"How does it feel to shoot someone?" he asked then, picking up on their earlier conversation.

With a crooked smile Stephen met his gaze.

"It's… difficult. Yer know, usually when yer have to shoot at someone, yer try to take them out with a shot to the shoulder or the leg, but sometimes it's either killing or getting killed. Taking someone's life is never easy, even if yer know it was necessary and in some cases they even deserved to die. Still… yer are ending someone's life and yer never feel good afterwards. The only times it was different were when I shot a lunatic who had his gun pressed against Randy's head and… Pinky."

A spoon full of ice vanished in Stephen's mouth and for a moment there was silence. Phil could see the very second the topic changed, slipping into a direction that wasn't one he liked but he'd known it would come up again sooner or later. The silence lingered a moment longer and Phil waited, putting his ice aside because suddenly his appetite was gone.

Then: "I had made me peace with dying in there because the chances were good tha _yer_ would get out alive and then yer…" The blue eyes closed briefly and sorrow tugged at the handsome features… and at Phil's heart. "They would have shot yer, yer idiot. Throwing yer life away for nothing. Yer…"

"Hey, stop," Phil cut in. "I wouldn't have thrown my life away for _nothing_, okay? Every damn second in there I was afraid that you'd die. I don't know how often I've felt for a pulse to make sure you're still alive. Fuck, I would have given my life to make sure you survive this shit and then Pinky came and told you to get up and I… I couldn't let you walk right into death alone and I don't think that I would ever have been able to live a happy life if I had seen you… die. Huh, no, I actually know that I wouldn't have been able because the last three months I didn't know if you're alive or not and no, my life wasn't happy."

He watched as another spoon full of ice passed the other man's lips and he saw that Stephen's appetite was gone, too, and the blue eyes dropped their gaze to the floor. Scooting over to Stephen, he took the bowl from unresisting hands and placed it on the coffee table.

"Don't ever say again that I would have thrown my life away for nothing, you hear me? I would have _given_ it _for_ _you_," he said softly, bringing a hand up to Stephen's face to wipe some whipped cream off the beard. "You're not _nothing_, Biscuit, you're…"

… everything…

The last word though never passed his lips, because a hand closed around his own as his fingers touched the beard, the blue orbs locking with his gaze again. Faintly he realized that his breathing became a bit quicker, a little shallow and he wasn't alone. Equally quick and shallow puffs of air fleeted over his face, making him aware of how close he was to Stephen. Much closer than he had intended. And… not close enough. Stephen's breath was cookie dough flavored and Phil couldn't help but notice a different kind of appetite it stirred in him, whispering to him to steal the other man's breath and taste it. And it was back, that humming, flooding his body, filling his mind and the air between them. Stephen brought their hands down slowly, resting them on his chest. Phil felt a faint pounding. Stephen's heart. A bit faster maybe than it should?

Phil could have just leaned in now, could have kissed him and blame the moment. It wouldn't even have been a lie. But it was the indecisivness which returned to those baby blues and the almost pleading _Bambi_ that passed Stephen's lips that stopped Phil from doing it. Stephen didn't want this or maybe he wasn't sure what he wanted. Either way, kissing him wouldn't have been right now and so he crawled back to his place on the far end of the couch and the fact that Stephen didn't try to stop him proved him right.

_Don't push things. Don't push Stephen. Let him be the one who makes the first move. We've got time._

Taking a sip from his soda, he broke the eye contact and gave them both a few seconds to breathe through, but he couldn't help but notice from the corner of his eye as Stephen ran a hand through his hair, took the beer and downed it almost completely.

With his soda in hand he leaned back and grabbed a pillow, holding it to his nicely Curry stuffed tummy.

"On my search for you I Ieft my card at your department. Did anyone give it to you?" he asked, finally looking at Stephen again.

The humming was gone and the ease was back and with it came that cute smile to Stephen's lips.

"The card, yeah…" Stephen sighed and frowned a little. "Yer know, I've spent I dunno how much time on finding out yer name and yer address and finally I got it and then Randy comes to me yesterday and tells me tha he found yer card lying between the paperwork at the front desk. He hit on it yesterday morning."

Huffing, Phil put his soda aside and pinched the bridge of his nose. He understood that Stephen's colleagues hadn't given him information about him, but they could at least have given him the fucking card.

"Oh, that's wonderful. I've spent almost three months on finding you, have left my card at every goddamn hospital and department and it gets lost between paperwork and I sit at home the whole time, not knowing if I'll ever see you again or if you're alive or if you don't want to see me again..." He sighed. "Whatever."

"Yeah, well, after Randy told me about the card, no one dared to come to me office the whole morning because I was _really_ pissed," Stephen chuckled while scooting closer to Phil.

He snatched the pillow from Phil and put it on Phil's legs, before he shifted to lie down, resting his head on the pillow with a sigh and for a moment Phil wasn't sure where to put his hands or how to move at all, wondering if Stephen was trying to kill him with his innocent getting closer here and there. After that moment one found a safe place on the armrest, while the other found a _nice_ place on Stephen's chest, lying there totally… happily.

"What made yer think tha I wouldn't want to see yer again?"

_Well, maybe the fact that a few traumatic hours of being caught up in a bank robbery and almost dying in there isn't a reason to want to see someone again?_ he thought.

Instead he said: "Counterquestion: what should have made me think that you would _want_ to see me again?"

"Well, yer promised me a beer and cinnamon biscuits," Stephen grinned up to him. "I would never miss out on tha."

Raising an eyebrow, Phil muttered: "U-hu, so beer and biscuits are the reason you're here now? Does that mean that after you get the biscuits, that I won't see you ever again?"

Stephen frowned, pursing his lips as if he was thinking hard, but then the grin came back.

"Don't worry. It's comfy here and the food's good. I think I'll stay."

"Now, if this isn't nice. You could have told me that you're staying because I'm a nice guy, you know?"

The grin broadened.

"Yer are a nice guy and tha's why I'm staying. Tha and the food and the couch."

"Great, now I have to find a second job to feed you," Phil snorted, getting a soft chuckle in reply.

Closing his eyes, Stephen brought his hands up, one resting on Phil's on his chest, the other one holding on to Phil's forearm and the grin became an expression of contentment and it gave Phil the chance to really _look_ at him for a while. He wondered if Stephen knew how goddamn good-looking he was. Probably. How could he not? And he wondered how kissing those lips would feel. Surely wonderful. And seeing him lying there so relaxed and contented caused a wave of happiness to roll through Phil.

It was almost scary what this man caused in him. Stephen made him strong and weak, tough and vulnerable at the same time… he gave him a sense of security, of ease… had freed something devouring strong but good in him.

Eventually his gaze fell on the scar on Stephen's forehead. In contrast to the one on Stephen's belly, it wasn't rough, only an imperfection of the skin. He hated it, because a few millimeters to the side, a different angle and Stephen would have been dead. Yet he loved it, because it was only this, a scar, and the fucking bullet hadn't killed him. Wondering how it might feel to touch it, Phil lifted his hand and stopped only inches above it.

_The scar. I don't mind if yer touch it._

It was what Stephen had said yesterday at the pub, giving him the permission to touch the big scar on his belly. Stephen wouldn't mind if he touched the scar on his forehead now, would he?

The tip of his index finger touched the skin, tracing the scar tenderly and while he did, he saw Stephen opened his eyes just a bit, the blue orbs watching him in silence. A twinkle was lying in them. Affection.

"Have yer talked to a psychotherapist about what has happened?" Stephen asked quietly

Shaking his head softly no, Phil replied: "No. Somehow I couldn't and actually I'm not sure if I want to."

The hand on his arm began to smooth back and forth in a gentle, soothing caress.

"I know tha talking about it and reliving everything is a terrifying thought, but yer need to talk to a specialist who can help yer to…"

"No," Phil cut him off, his eyes still fixed on the scar. "You're here now and I know it'll be okay. _I'll_ be okay."

A sigh.

"Look at me," Stephen demanded softly and Phil obeyed. "I can't work wonders, Bambi."

"You have no idea…" Phil whispered and it seemed to strike a chord in Stephen, because the other man's breath hitched ever so slightly.

His finger drifted off, away from the scar… its trail getting wayward as it brushed over to the red hair. Never breaking their gazes, Phil let his fingers dive into it against his better knowledge. Hadn't he told himself to hold back not long ago? And here he did it again, getting closer this man in a way that was _closer_ than close. Too much closeness. And not enough. It was as if he was caught in a current that pulled him in mercilessly, dragging him back to Stephen again and again whenever he tried to bring some distance between them.

His fingertips travelled over the other man's scalp, the blue eyes slipping close for a second as the slightest of shivers ran through the big frame. Stephen didn't move to get away from this. No… instead he angled his head slightly to give better access.

How could _this_ _not_ be _more_?

Then Stephen opened his eyes again, a question lying in them as he began to gnaw at his bottom lip and he seemed to debate with himself. Phil stayed silent, giving him the time he needed to ask… whatever. A strange expression washed over Stephen's face suddenly, one that created an odd tingling at the base of Phil's skull and left him wondering what it was that his friend had been thinking about, but whatever it was, it remained unspoken behind those blue eyes.

What would he have given to take a glimpse, just one single glimpse at Stephen's thoughts…

"How long will yer have to work tomorrow?"

Topic change. Yup. It would remain unspoken. What a shame.

"Until three p.m. I think. You?"

"Got the day off," Stephen yawned. "Wanna go for a drink afterwards?"

Phil gave him a soft snort.

"Do you even have to ask, Biscuit?"

Smiling Stephen closed his eyes again and once more silence fell. It was a comfortable one, thick with ease and a glowing happiness. Perfect. A perfect ending for a wonderful exciting evening and Phil felt somehow heavy with a contented tiredness as he proceeded to run his his fingers through Stephen's hair.

Quiet minutes, passing slowly and the blue orbs stayed closed. Eventually he noticed Stephen's breathing become slow and shallow, felt the hands let go of him arm as they slipped down to the cushion, felt those tiny, approaching sleep induced twitches… and the fact that Stephen had fallen asleep on his legs, under his touch so easily warmed Phil from deep within.

"So you're really falling asleep on me, huh?" he whispered, smiling fondly as his eyes roamed the angelic and peaceful face, stopping at slightly parted lips he so wanted to kiss.

He really wanted to. But he was happy now with having his fingers buried in copper tinged softness, with having that nice weight lying on his legs and… well… the hand on Stephen's chest went into business for itself as it smoothed down, stealing careful touches on its way which gave Phil a faint idea what was hidden under the shirt… sneaking under the fabric to settle over the sun shaped scar. It remembered this place and just like it had been at the pub when he'd touched the scar, it felt like it shouldn't be anywhere else than on this body. The only reaction he got was a tiny, apologizing snore.

Handsome, cute, funny, caring… His mind wandered a little, bringing up words to describe the wonder that was lying here with him but in the end it narrowed on one single word.

Perfect.

_For me, _Phil whispered in his mind, not daring to think louder… as if Stephen could hear it in his sleep. _You feel it, too, don't you? You have to… I can't be that wrong, Biscuit…_


	4. Chapter 4

Now, there are times when my muses don't do what I want. I've got some other stories to continue but the Lifeline muse it much too strong at the moment *tsk*

But I don't work against the muses or else I will end up having no muse at all ;3

That's why you guys get a new chapter to this one and I hope you'll enjoy it!

* * *

The night was clear, showing the colorful lights of the city and even the stars shone brightly, blinking in the black firmament so vividly that it almost felt as if he could reach out an just touch them. It was a calming sight, full of peace. Just like the whole afternoon and the evening had been filled with peace. Ever since he'd found Stephen sitting on the stairs to the house, waiting for him, it was again and again like: welcome to your new life, this is hour one. It was their third day now and every day pushed his new and good… no, wonderful… life to a new level. Up towards the sky. Hour after hour this reached a new quality. He'd never before felt so at so at ease in his life and wasn't it ridiculous that a bank robbery and three months of shit had to happen to reach this point?

Shifting on the big beanbag he slipped deeper into it and rested his head back against the kind-of-backrest. A silent sigh passed his lips, bringing a tiny smile to them. The root beer in his hand was nicely cold and he felt cool droplets of condensed water run over his fingers. There was still the faint scent of the barbecue hanging in the air, just like the hushed conversation of the three men in the background and the relative quietness was only disturbed here and there by their laughter.

He'd known those kind of apartments existed here in San Francisco, although he'd never put a foot in one since he wasn't able to afford a place to live like this one. By far not. A big apartment with a giant roof terrace and a pool and a view like this. This moment and this place here with those men was a little piece of perfection.

Faintly he registered quiet steps behind him, approaching him and he almost laughed at the fact that he could tell by the sound of it who it was. Three days. Only three days and he knew that it was Stephen who was coming over to him. This man had etched himself so deeply into his mind and heart already.

Squatting down beside him, Stephen rested his forearm on the backrest, his hand finding a place on Phil's shoulder. Rolling his head against the backrest, Phil met precious blue orbs and a smile so gentle that his fingers itched to touch those lips.

"Hey, Bambi," Stephen said softly, his thumb begnning to brush back and forth on Phil's shoulder. "Don't yer wanna come back over to us?"

If he would simply tilt his head a bit, he could nuzzle his cheek against the broad hand, maybe even leave a kiss there. A tempting thought. But he didn't, because it would have been a bit _too_ obvious and so he savored the innocent caress of the busy thumb instead.

"Not yet. Want to enjoy the sight a little longer."

"Okay then, how 'bout some quiet company?"

He blinked slowly. Stephen was… closer. He definitively was and Phil wasn't sure if he himself had moved or Stephen. Fact was there was less distance between them now. And the hand on his shoulder had slipped down a bit to his chest. He loved it. He loved this touch and he loved the scent of cinnamon invading his mind and the always calming presence of this man at his side but there was a voice somewhere in his head that demanded some time alone to think and process everything. He wouldn't be able to do this if Stephen was sitting here with him, because he felt like the past hours had left him being tuned to this man. He couldn't focus on anything else than him if he was close. There was this hum lying in the air between them. Again. Every time they were closer and it was getting stronger. And hadn't the distance between them just gotten lesser again? No… no, he definitively couldn't focus on anything else than him.

"I, uh… I want a some more time alone," he replied and regretted it the very second the words were out. A shadow cast over the usually bright blue eyes and he knew he shouldn't have said it. At least not like this. "Sorry. This has come out wrong. It's just, you know, I want to think a bit and company distracts me." _You're_ distracting me so fucking much that it's far beyong being funny, he whispered in his mind… a bit desperate even. "Just a few more minutes, okay?"

Dropping his gaze to the beer in his hand, Stephen mumbled: "Sure, uhm… yer need anything?"

"No, thanks, Biscuit."

A nod. A sad one. And Phil felt like an ass for asking for a few more minutes alone, for sending Stephen away as his friend straightened up, giving him a small smile nevertheless before turning to leave Phil alone.

It didn't take long though until his mind drifted off again, this time back to the last night and to the moments when it had felt like Stephen would kiss him… or allow him to kiss him. Those moments when there had been something close to electricity between them. And to the moment Stephen had fallen asleep on his lap. Just like that. As if it was the most normal thing in the world… as if they had been doing this for years now. Trust. Stephen had been sleeping like he hadn't slept in weeks and maybe he hadn't. Just like Phil, spending his nights with being torn between being afraid to fall asleep and wishing to finally find some sleep at all. Or with waking up soaked in sweat after escaping a nightmare?

Hours. He had spent hours last night with just sitting there, watching the peaceful face, stroking the soft hair. Of leaving innocent caresses on the wonderfully warm, smooth skin. Hours of feeding his growing affection for this man with getting his fill by with those gazes, touches. He had been listening to soft breathing, cute little snores, to sleep-hushed mumbling. To his name on those lips.

Eventually the world outside had filled with light again and only then he had realized that the night was over and God knew, that night had been full of something so much better than sleep. But with the light came reality back, including him having to go to work. Stephen hadn't even given a twitch in his sleep as Phil had to lift his head so he could get off the couch. Phil had left a note on the coffee table, saying that he had to go to work and Stephen should feel at home and stay as long as he wanted… and he also left a tiny kiss on the sleeping man's forehead. And the whole day it had been there, that humming, like a faint melody playing in the background.

More than three hours later his phone had piped up with a message from Stephen. Thanks for the wonderful night, Bambi. Gonna pick you up at three, Randy has invited us for barbecue. And the message ended with a kissing lips smiley. This man… And Phil had been sitting there, staring at his phone while feeling his ears heat up for no apparent reason because nothing had happened last night, right? Nothing, so no need to blush like a pubescent twelve year old.

Five minutes to three one of his female colleagues had come to him, telling him that there was a big man with red hair waiting for him and that it would be nice if he could introduce her to this man.

Phil's answer had been… Nope.

With glaring eyes piercing holes in his back he had left the office with a broad grin and a happily jumping heart, finding Stephen surrounded by various of his other female colleagues, asking him if he wanted a coffee while waiting, preferably together at the cafeteria and it itched the jealousy in Phil, badly.

And then Stephen noticed him standing there and the very second their eyes met, Phil's skin began to _prick_ in some kind of an excitement-anticipation-born electricity.

I'm sorry, ladies, but my date is here. With those words Stephen had excused himself and had met Phil half-way, pulling him into a hug so tight that Phil couldn't breathe. But he fucking didn't care, as long as those strong arms stayed wrapped around him. The confused, partly shocked and yes, also partly jealous stares which were directed at them were gold and with this image in his mind, with his heart doing somersaults and Stephen's arm thrown around his neck they had left for the barbecue…

"_What the hell? You're a cop, how are you able to afford this? Got a lot of bribes?" Phil spluttered as Randy showed him round the apartment with Stephen trailing along behind them._

_It was, by Phil's standards, more a house than an apartment actually and he could have said it was, politely phrased, big, but at the moment he settled for a silent impertinently exorbitant. One could have said it was straight-lined and rather sparsley furnished, totally modern and without any flourishes. The dominant colors were black, white and red. There was a big salt water aquarium and one of those giant arched LED TVs. Again, impertinent._

"_Scrap the bribes, protection racket is far more lucrative," Randy chuckled while he led them through the livingroom. "But really, my parents bequethed me a bit of money," _

_A dog bed was there beside big couch, only that Phil hadn't seen a dog yet but measured by the size of the bed it was a big exemplar. He wondered if there was anything in here that wasn't big. _

_Randy was just opening the door to the terrace, causing a wave of barbecue scented air to whoosh in, as Phil asked: "You got a dog, huh? What breed is…" He never ended the sentence as he stepped out. What left his mouth instead was: "Holy fuck…"_

_This was a big terrace. No, scrap that, it was a giant one. As he stood there, taking a look around, he was pretty sure that his own apartment wasn't even as big as this fucking terrace. And on top of it all his eyes stopped at an in-ground swimming pool._

"_It's a Belgian Malinois. A male. His name's Hannibal," the other man replied._

_Looking at him, Phil muttered: "That's not nice, you know?"_

"_What? To name the dog Hannibal?"_

"_Haha, funny. No, to have an apartment like this is not nice," Phil said, crossing his arms over his chest while trying his best to look offended, but he couldn't hold back a tiny smile. "It makes me feel like I'm living in a fucking coffee mug."_

_Stephen snorted somewhere behind them while Randy quirked an eyebrow._

"_Funny, Stephen told me the same when I got it."_

"_Maybe because it's a fact tha yer li'l apartment is a wee bit oversized," Stephen piped up, stepping up to Phil's side._

"_Do I hear envy, gentleman?" Randy grinned, his quirked eyebrow getting some company as the second one climbed up, too._

"_Fuck yes," Phil grinned back while his eyes swept back to the pool._

_Randy's eyes followed his gaze and jumped back to Phil._

"_The barbecue will take some more time. Wanna jump into the pool until then?"_

"_In undies?" Phil mumbled, but the idea of lying in the pool in the sun with a cold soda was tempting._

"_Yer could go naked?" Stephen suggested __helpfully_, a grin much audible and Randy pursed his lips, nodding slightly.

_But there wasn't only that grin in his friend's voice, but also something else… and it made Phil's belly tingle in a funny way._

"_Only when you go naked, too," Phil shot back and yes, he totally hoped that Stephen would agree._

"_Nah, me li'l fella will get a sunburn."_

"_We've got suncream," Randy said as he walked over to the barbecue grill to take a look._

"_Not gonna risk tha. For me back, yeah, but not for me fella down there."_

_So, no naked Stephen. Too bad…_

_Not even five minutes later Phil was in a very happy little world of his own. Although there was no naked Stephen, he at least got a Stephen in skin tight boxers. And he was wearing _only_ those boxers and… well, staring would have been too obvious and so Phil did his best to gaze as innocently as even possible. Somehow. _

_Holy Mother of God._

_He'd felt a bit of what was hidden under the other man's clothes, when his hand had been on that belly, when he had been stealing touches last night as his hand travelled down that chest to the scar. When Stephen stood pressed up against him during a hug. But now… he _saw_ it. Practically all of it except the li'l fella, although… the boxers gave him an idea…_

_Phil had no idea where even to begin. Those thighs. The abs, flexing as Stephen moved while spreading the suncream on his body. The chest, those arms. Muscles moving under wonderfully milky skin. That _ass_. Firm and round and… perfect. Like the whole man. Mouth watering. There was nothing Phil wouldn't describe as perfect when it came to Stephen. Stephen was that rare package where both was perfect. The man himself and his looks._

_Only that scar… _

_Shaking his head softly, Phil tried to stop rambling in his mind._

_After his friend had spread suncream over any for him reachable part of his body, it was his back that needed to be taken care of and so Phil found himself in the blissful situation to paw his friend a bit. He took his time and why should he not? He couldn't risk that Stephen would get a sunburn because he hadn't been thoroughly enough._

_His hands smoothed over the broad back… up and down... gliding along the spine and over the broad shoulder… back down over his friend's sides and to the small of the back, only to wander back up. His thumbs were digging gently into the muscles on their way up. Stephen was sitting on a chair with its backrest in front of him and with a barely audible moan he folded his arms against the backrest, resting his forehead on his forearms. The tiny sound took residence in Phil's chest, stretched its hands out and tugged playfully and his poor little heart and it got good company as he put his hands on the thick muscles of the broad shoulders, beginning to knead them. More of those tiny moans reached his ears and yes, it was safe to say that he loved them._

"_Don't spoil him. He can be very demanding when he likes things too much," Randy called over his shoulder while setting the table._

"_Says the spoiled brat," Stephen muttered, receiving a chuckle from Randy._

"_I guess a backrub here and there won't kill me," Phil smiled, mostly because of the idea of Stephen demanding backrubs from him, and it earned him an approving hum from the man he had his hands on. "Where's your dog by the way?"_

"_John's out with him for a walk. They should be back any minute," Randy said as he took a glance on his watch._

_Running his fingers gently over the back of Stephen's neck, taking in the slight shiver he was rewarded with, he asked: "You got a flat mate?"_

_A second of… surprised silence?_

_Then: "You didn't tell him, Farrelly, did you? John's my boyfriend, Phil."_

"_Didn't think it's necessary to warn a gay man tha yer are gay, Orton."_

_Another second of silence._

_So this was why Stephen had no problems with a friend being gay and all the shit it could bring along. And if it hadn't been for the fact that Randy had a boyfriend, the green eyed monster that was cowering in the depths of Phil's guts would probably have bared its teeth now._

"_Bambi…" Stephen half-moaned, half-sighed in a faraway voice, cutting into Phil's thoughts. "Feels good but if yer keep this up, we won't get into tha pool today."_

_Fuck, who cared. He had his hands on Stephen's bare skin. He was pretty happy with this. On the other hand he knew that he couldn't go on like this. _

"_Your shoulders felt tense."_

_A white lie. Again, fuck, who cared? _

_Stephen sat up straight, his hands coming up to settle on Phil's to squeeze them gently before standing up. And Phil had to let go. What a shame… And then Stephen turned around to him and suddenly they were so close again and the scent of suncream lingered between them, reminding him of long beaches with white sand and steel blue sea and into it laced the beloved scent of cinnamon._

"_Thanks," Stephen said just above a whisper, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair out of Phil's face who automatically turned his head a bit to gain more contact. "Let's get into the pool."_

_And then the hand was gone. Stepping around Phil, Stephen climbed into the pool, leaving him standing there with a surging tingling in his belly and somersaults in his chest. But not for long. Phil's body reacted to the loss almost immediately, following the other man before his head noticed what he was doing. No reason to complain though._

_The pool wasn't deep. The water barely reached Phil's chest and his feet had just touched the ground, as he heard a loud barking. A blink later a big, mahogany colored dog came dashing through the doorway to the livingroom only to prance tail-wagging around Randy who bent down laughing to pet the dog's head._

"_Ooh, the pain of separation was SO bad," Phil heard a full, warm voice coming from the livingroom. Its owner followed a second later. A big, broad guy came out, stepping up to a brightly smiling Randy, stealing a kiss from him. "You're not the only one who missed him badly, Hannibal." _

"_How comes then you don't pounce me tail-wagging, Johnny?" Randy mumbled against the other man's lips._

"_Oh, I will, Babe. Later," Peck. "Or else the neighbors will complain again."_

"_Yeah, complaining about shit. They haven't seen us."_

_A low chuckle from John._

"_Well, someone said they _have_ seen my naked ass and they sure have heard us…"_

_Watching the scene fascinated, Phil stood at the rim of the pool as the two men continued stealing pecks from each other while Hannibal kept his dance around them up. So… this was John. Not as big as Randy but broader, with bulky muslces. Dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. A handsome face. And now that Phil was here with three fine specimen of what any gay man's heart wished for, he wondered if there was a nest of big, broad, handsome men somwhere._

_Stephen appeared at his side, one of his arms sneaking around Phil's neck as he called over: "Ever thought about charging for entry for the show, guys?" _

_Hannibal was the first to react. The dog's head whipped around as if he hadn't noticed Stephen and Phil before and yapping he sprinted towards the pool, jumping into. Turning around he made a beeline for Stephen, who gathered the dog in his arms. A big doggisch hello followed with happy whimpering and a big tongue lapping across Stephen's face. And Phil couldn't remember that he had ever seen something cuter than Stephen cuddling and petting Hannibal, talking to the dog in some kind of a babytalk. _

"_Sorry, how impolite of me." John came walking over to them, hunching down at the rim while stretching his hand out towards Phil. "John Cena. You must be Phil then?"_

"_Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, John," Phil said, shaking the other man's hand and winced in surprise as a cold nose sniffed at his ear, letting a wet kiss follow._

"_Nice to meet you, too, Phil," John replied with an infectious smile. Turning his attention on Stephen, he said: "Hey big man. You giving me my dog back? Feedingtime and I gotta help Randy with the dinner."_

_With a pout Stephen lifted the dog out of the water._

"_Okay guys, you need anything?" At the no from both Stephen and Phil, John stood up. "Good. If you excuse me for a few minutes? Oh and Stephen? Stop the pouting, maybe Phil lets you cuddle a little."_

Oh yes, please_, Phil sighed in his mind._

_With that the blond man walked away with Randy at his side and a dripping wet Hannibal following him and Phil thought that if this was his apartment, that the dog would have gotten the shit end of the stick by getting himself soaking wet, ending up waiting outside until he was all dried. He was still gazing in the direction where the two men and the dog had vanished, as he felt a touch on his back and when he realized it was Stephen, standing behind him close enough so that his chest pressed slightly again his back, it was a mix of surprise, confusion and excitement that shot through him._

_His breath hitched and then it caught in his throat as he felt fingers run over his shoulders and down his arms. Fingertips, circling the Pepsi logo slowly. Breath, fanning over the back of his neck. A soft touch right behind his ear where the 31 was inked…_

_And then he felt it. Heat where Stephen touched him, flaring… collecting in his chest, only to surge straight down between his legs and no matter how amazing it felt, it was the last thing he needed now._

_The pressure against his back increased a bit as Stephen leaned in a little more… and Phil had to close his eyes as he felt his friend's groin press ever so slightly against his ass. He could not _not_ feel Stephen's dick through the thin fabric of their underwear, the contact so faint though that he couldn't really make out if his friend was… aroused… but it didn't make it any better._

"_Turn around…" Stephen said lowly and so close to Phil's ear that a heavy wave of goosebumps chased all over Phil's body._

_How could two simple words be so goddamn sexy?_

Fuck_, he thought slightly panicked as he felt his own dick harden._

_Not moving an inch as Stephen moved back just enough to give him room to turn around, he willed his body to stop this shit. Stephen would notice it if he turned around now. He couldn't even climb out of the pool now, because his own boxers wouldn't hide the facts._

_A hand settled on his shoulder, gently urging him to turn around and his name was whispered, begging almost. And then he did turn around. What else could he do? Stephen wouldn't let it go and all he could hope for was that his friend wouldn't notice anything._

_Phil tried to find a safe spot to look at, but it was difficult because his eyes jumped back to the broad chest mercilessly. Stephen's hands came back to his arms, gently closing around his forearms to lift them to the surface._

_Again Stephen moved in a little… and Phil couldn't help but look up._

_Green met blue. And he was falling… falling into the depths of those vivid blue orbs even as Stephen's gaze swept to his arms, trailing over the inked art there for long seconds, then over to his chest, before fingers splayed on his arms as the big hands smoothed up to his shoulders, down over his chest to his sides in a touch that Phil could only describe as a caress. There was a whispered _beautiful_… Phil's heart was pounding so hard in his chest now that he was sure Stephen would feel it. He had to. Shivers ran down his spine and he tried hard to keep on breathing and he tried even harder to will his erection away and to keep his hands from touching his friend._

_For a moment the hands on his sides stayed there… before Stephen braced his hands against the rim, trapping him between the rim and his own body as he moved in so close that there was barely an inch of space left between their bodies, still enough that Stephen wouldn't feel the traitorous evidence of Phil's weakness._

_It was the feeling of soft skin against his palm that made him realize that he was touching Stephen although he had tried so hard not to do it. Too late… His hands were resting on the broad shoulders and he found himself wanting to pull Stephen closer when he knew he should give his friend all the time he needed. He knew he should._

_The blue orbs began to roam Phil's face then, stopping at his lips. Phil saw something lying in them, some unknown, strong emotion… this very moment it felt like something would happen. It had to…_

_He felt hot tears of disappointment sting in his eyes and he watched fine lines of sorrow appear on the handsome features, watched as those blue orbs cloud over with that goddamn indecisivness all of a sudden. Phil's fingers dug in the thick muscles, doing what he told himself not to do. He pulled Stephen closer, pulled him in a desperate attempt to… to…_

_And then he felt resistance as Stephen backed off, a silent apology written all over his face. Phil wanted to say something, anything, wanted to hold his friend back somehow, but instead of speaking, he looked at him in sad silence and instead of holding him back… he let his hands slip from the broad shoulders._

_It was Randy's voice, calling from the livingroom for Stephen to come in and give him a hand that shattered the last pieces of the lost moment._

"_On me way!" Stephen called back and despite the disappointment Phil couldn't let him go like this. _

_Closing the just created distance between them, he gave Stephen a reassuring little smile and allowed his fingers to brush over the back of his friend's hand as he passed him, before swimming over to the other side of the pool where he braced his forearms on the rim, waiting for his erection to fade. Splashing sounds told him that Stephen left the pool and not even a minute later it was safe to push away from the rim, turning face up as he drifted to the middle of the pool. Staring into the sunlit blue above him, it almost felt like he was flaoting in the cloudless sky instead of the pool._

_About an hour later they were sitting at a table with the remains of a delicious dinner and the air was filled with laughter and good mood. It was almost as if the moment in the pool hadn't happened. Phil wasn't sure if he should be happy about it or not, but it was definitively okay the way it was._

_It had taken Phil less than a handful of minutes of really talking to Randy and John to like them. And hell, these two were the definition of a picture perfect couple. Corny and goddamn hot together at the same time. _

"_So, how did the two of you meet?" Phil asked._

_Raising an eyebrow as he gazed over to John, Randy replied: "He pounced me in the middle of a bullethail, four years ago." A grin spread on John's lips. "The department had planned on busting a nest of drug dealer that night. We agreed to split up and Stephen was a few meters to my left when I heard the sound of a gun being loaded and I remember that I thought: fuck, someone has warned them. And then suddenly I was lying on the ground with 250 pounds flattening me."_

"_I saved your life," John pouted mock-offended._

"_Yeah, you did, Johnny," Randy replied softly and leaned in to kiss the pout away. "And then you kissed me," he added as he drew back, shooting him an chiding raised eyebrow. "In the middle of a bullethail and in front of practically the whole department."_

_Smirking, Phil watched the back and forth between the two man that made them sound like an old married couple._

"_I didn't give a flying fuck back then who saw us and I don't give a flying fuck now," John explained smiling, glancing over to Phil. "You know, I was new to the department and I noticed Randy the first time just a moment before hell broke loose. I saw him standing there and heard the gun being loaded and tackled him out of the line of fire." John's eyes glazed over with a dreamy expression as he continued. "I looked down at him and, well, talk about love at first sight. And yes, I kissed you in front of all those people," he addressed Randy by gazing at him with a smirk. "But as far as I remember you did your very best to suck the last bit of breath out of me."_

_There was an amused chuckle coming from Stephen and Phil allowed himself to steal a glance. The blue eyes were sparkling in amusement. Beautiful…_

"_I admit I… got a bit carried away back then," Randy smirked. "But you refused to get off me even after those guys had been taken out."_

"_I still refuse to get off you and I never hear you complain about it, Babe," John purred and earned himself a smack to the back of his head first and a thorough kiss aftwards._

_The smile that spread on John's lips was bright and full of love for the man who whispered sweet words of love against his lips, that Phil had to swallow hard for a reason he couldn't name. Maybe it was because he had hoped so much that Stephen would kiss him and to see John and Randy like this now, it struck a chord deep within him. If possible, the smile on John's face became even brighter and the dimples it brought along were too fucking cute._

_Being caught in the perfect sight, Phil barely noticed the movement beside him. An arm was wrapped loosely around his neck as Stephen made himself comfortable in his chair and Phil had to hold back a sigh at the simple feeling of skin on skin and the fingertips which were touching his bare chest lightly, since they all were sitting here without a shirt. And for any reason the simple feeling of skin on skin wasn't that simple anymore, was it? At least not when it came to Stephen…_

"_So, you're at the same department?" he asked John when Randy allowed the blond man to breathe again, shoving his thoughts aside._

"_Not anymore. I'm at the K9 dog unit now and that goofball of a dog is actually a police dog."_

_Glancing over to a loudly snoring Hannibal who was lying on his back with an awkwardly angled head and his front paws drawn up to his chest, the hind legs spread in an obscene way while the tongue was peeking out between hanging flews, Phil recalled the prancing furball from earlier and wondered if Hannibal's tactic was to tail-wag or snore potential criminals to death._

"_Yeah, I know, he doesn't look like it, but he's a lethal weapon when he's on duty," John grinned._

_There was a bark coming from the sleeping dog. Again looking over to him, Phil found the off-duty and right now not so lethal weapon still lying on his back with all four legs practically running in the air, accompanied by a growl here and there. He wondered if the Hannibal was hunting a suspect in his dreams…_

… _and Phil also wondered if the fingers that splayed on his chest this very second and the warm palm that was pressed flat against it were meant to be more than just a simple touch…_

* * *

**Got a few words for me? ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

And another one.

Not much to say except a big THANKS to Jinx302, Plebs, SparkenRose and BrightAsNight.

Jinx302 + Plebs: Some more nice appearances to come :)

SparkenRose: You'll get answers in this chapter. And the Shandy is in progress ;3

BrightAsNight: You know what is about to come, Love, neh? ;D

Enjoy!

* * *

"Hey," he heard Randy's low, rumbling voice close behind him, shaking him out of his mental cinema and a blink later the other man sat down on the free beanbag beside him.

"Hey," he greeted back softly, glancing over to Randy who was looking straight ahead into the night.

"Nice view, huh?"

For another moment he kept gazing at Randy, before he directed his gaze back to the nightly world in front of him, mumbling: "Yeah."

Silence, companionable, comfortable, but he knew Randy wasn't here just to sit with him and gaze into the night. Randy was sitting here because of Stephen. But he wouldn't ask, would wait for the other man to speak again when he thought it was time or had found the right words or… whatever. It didn't take long until he noticed a movement from the corner of his eye, saw him pull his knees up and rest his forearms on top of them, hands folded.

"Phil… you've been very quiet in the past hour and now you're sitting here and you told Stephen you want to be alone…" Randy said quietly, looking at him for a brief moment. "He's worried. He thinks he has said something wrong."

"Wasn't my intention," he replied equally quiet. "I just wanted a few minutes on my own."

_To think_, he added in his mind. To feel. To let this night and its impressions sink in, because here he was, having a picture perfect night with Randy and John, who made him feel like they've been friends for years already and with Stephen… who made him feel like they were an item. And it all felt as unreal as it was _real_ and it was dangerous, too, because Stephen and he, they weren't an item. This illusion… he got carried away by this illusion and he'd almost done something stupid, hadn't he?

"You like him."

The three words weren spoken as a question but a statement and it shook him out of his musing, causing him to look over to Randy who met his gaze. The expression he found on the pretty face was reassuring.

"I… uhm, yeah. I do. I wouldn't spend my time with him if I didn't like him, would I?"

The grey eyes bore into his own, dug deep into his mind and suddenly Phil felt somehow… naked. As if the other man looked right into his very soul. And maybe it was exactly what he was doing this very moment, looking right at Phil's little secret?

"You have a thing for him."

Again not a question. To say that Phil had a thing for Stephen was an understatement but somehow there was a _you're in love with_ him clinging to Randy's words, but he guessed that Randy had decided to put it in more… harmless… words for any reason. But why lying? Randy had already seen it and by not saying anything, Phil had practically confirmed it.

There was a smile playing on Randy's lips as he added: "He likes you, too. Very much, you know?"

No doubt there that Stephen liked him… very much… since his handsome, ginger, cinnamon biscuit flavored friend didn't make a secret of it. But…

"Yeah. Yeah, he does," Phil smiled back. "But it doesn't mean that it's more than just friendship from his side. And it's okay. He's alive and well and we're friends. I have him close to me. That's far more than I dared to hope for."

Why was he telling Randy all this? How smart was it to tell the best friend of the man he was just losing his heart to how he felt? Randy's loyality lay with Stephen. Yet… now that he sat here with this man, it felt like… he could trust him. That nothing of what was being revealed now would reach Stephen.

There was excited barking coming from somewhere behind them and laughter… Stephen's laughter and Phil couldn't help but turn around, finding Stephen grabbing a stick that Hannibal carried in his muzzle, playing tug of war with the big dog. There was a bright smile on Stephen's face and Phil wished he could just walk over now and taste that smile.

"I haven't talked to him about it yet but… this with you is different," he heard Randy say and although the sight of Stephen playing with Hannibal was precious, it made him wrench his eyes away to look back at the man beside him. "I know Stephen and… see, he's been in coma for two weeks. After he woke up, and I mean the very moment after he opened his eyes, he asked for you. I couldn't tell him where you are or if you're okay and for days he was depressed. It took him two months to get back on his feet and in that time he moved heaven and earth to find out your address. He was involved in the incident and thus he couldn't simply take a look into the file for your address, you know? He did _everything_ for it. And after he finally got it, it took him two full weeks to find the guts to go to you. He was afraid that you might tell him to leave you alone and I guess it was the fact that you've left your card that gave him the courage."

For a few second Phil was speechless. Stephen had asked for him right after waking up? Had been afraid that he… that he would tell him to leave him alone?

"All the time he was talking about you and that he wants to see you again at all costs. Did he tell you why he risked his life for you?"

Unable to say anything, Phil only nodded softly.

"Do you know what that means?" Randy asked gently, tilting his head a bit to the side, keeping their gazes locked and it felt like the man referred to both the fact that Stephen had told him about it and the actual meaning _why_ Stephen had risked his life. Randy didn't say aloud what it meant but he didn't need to, did he? "It's been a long time since I've seen him this happy and you're the reason, Phil," he continued instead. "He's constantly talking about you. He's smiling all the time. He's letting you close. The only other person he allows to come so close is me but it's different with you. He's clinging to you. And the way he's looking at you when you don't see it…"

This couldn't be, could it? Randy wasn't just telling him that Stephen was feeling the same? His ears told him exactly that but his brain refused to believe it. Still. After all that had happened between him and Stephen in the past three days. Or maybe because of it.

He was going in circles here…

"Randy, why… why are you telling me all this?"

"Look, I really like you and God knows I love Stephen and I want to see the two of you happy. Together. He only needs a push, Phil."

A push. Yeah. How about trying a push because pulling him in hadn't worked, had it? Wonderful idea.

"You haven't talked to him about his feelings for me so you can't be sure that he feels the same. My last information about his relationships is that he had a girlfriend not long ago and he hasn't lost a single word about that he's bi. You can't expect me to make a move on him and risk ruining our friendship with it."

"I expect nothing from you. But I know him and I _am_ sure and… Gosh, if he ever finds out about our little conversation about this, he'll probably kill me," Randy mumbled, frowning lightly. "He has been with a man before."

The world faded out for three long seconds and all that stayed loud and clear were these words. Stephen had been with a man. That didn't make him gay, not even necessarily bi, but it meant that he wasn't averse to being with a man.

"Why would he kill you for telling me this?" he croaked, but Randy seemed not to notice it.

"Because it's been me," the other man said flat out and although it sure hadn't been with intent, it was a slap to Phil's face. "I guess he wouldn't want you to know that we have a past like that. At least not yet."

"You…?" Phil breathed dumbfounded, feeling jealousy tug sharply at his heart even though he knew that Randy was in a perfect and loving relationship with John.

And Randy could obviously read it on his face.

"See? That's why I think the wouldn't want you to know about it. And Phil… I know that knowing that the one you love has been in a relationship with his best friend and partner isn't that easy to stomach."

"How long did you…? I mean…" Phil mumbled but the words got stuck in his throat.

How long have you been together. How did it happen. Was there… love?

"After we had been partnered up we had become best friends in record time and it didn't take long until I noticed a certain… attraction. He did, too. And one night it just happened. We had been out for a drink and he wanted to crash on my couch. I know that I closed the front door and the next thing I remember is us ripping our clothes off each other and… well. It was a friend's with benefits thing until John stepped into my life. The thing between Stephen and me ended the very day I laid my eyes on John and we never touched the other again in that way. There has never been that romantic kind of love between us and I think it was why he didn't think it to death if he should fuck me or not. Stephen and me back then? Fun. Stephen and you now? A chance on the real thing."

The real thing. Randy made it sound like all Phil had to do is walk over to Stephen and put a lip-lock on him to get the happily ever after with him. So easy and nothing to lose, huh?

"I wished I had your confidence, man," he said just above a whisper. "There have been so many moments when I thought that there must be more and that he might really make a move but then… he stopped it or he seemed to be relieved that I backed off."

Frowning, Randy scratched the back of his neck and gnawed at his bottom lip.

"I've seen you, you know? Stephen and you in the pool."

Oh. Well…

"Yeah, then you've also seen how he backed off, didn't you? After I tried to pull him closer?"

_To do what you tell me to do for minutes now. Kiss him._

"Why didn't you just kiss him? How much more evidence do you need that you're not only a friend for him?"

"Randy… there was a second I _wanted_ to do it."

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't. And _you_ didn't see the expression in his eyes. It was almost as if a switch was being flipped. One moment I think he'll kiss me and the next moment I can read a fat _what am I doing here_ in his eyes. Indecisicivness. What if it's only the aftermath of what has happened back at the bank and in the past three months? What if he's confused about…"

"Aftermath? Confused?" Randy cut him off gently. "No, believe me, this has nothing to do with an aftermath or confusion. I think he isn't sure about what _you're_ feeling and just as you are he's scared that he might ruin it."

"Huh, and here I thought I've been much too obvious already with what I feel for him. But Randy… what makes you sure that he's just not sure about what _I _feel? What if he's not sure about what _he's_ feeling? What if I kiss him and he…"

Shaking his head softly no, Randy cut him off again: "Even if you'd kiss him and he would _not_ be head over heels in love with you, he would still want to be friends with you. Believe me, I know this man in and out. I. Know. Him."

"No. Nono, it is too soon. This is all going too fast. I mean, we know each other for, what, three days and three hours and jumping right into a relationship…I… I don't know…"

"Gosh, Phil, don't make it so hard for yourself..." Randy muttered, running a hand over his short-cropped hair. "What is too soon? How long do you think you need to know someone before you can give it a try? Three days, three years… it doesn't count as long as there is this _something_. You grow with your partner, with the relationship. Look, I can't tell you to go and kiss him. All I can do is tell you all this and hope that you will make the best of it."

Silence… while they looked at each other and the longer Phil gazed at the other man with all the encouraging words echoing in his mind, the less scary seemed the idea of just claiming what his heart demanded for. Maybe… maybe he should just do it…

After a moment a crooked smile tugged at his lips as his mind brought an… interesting… question up. Since he had someone sitting here who could give him first-hand information…

"Is he… good?"

Phil could see that the meaning of his question sunk into Randy's brain with delay because for a brief moment the other man stared at him in slight confusion, before the grey eyes widened a bit. And then Randy graced him with a smile that said it all and Phil instantly felt heat flare in his southern regions.

Randy stood up then, giving Phil's shoulder a gentle pat, before he made his way back to the two other men. Phil sighed and rubbed his hands through his face, while his mind spun and in the noise of his own thoughts he heard Randy's steps veer away from him. And only a moment later... steps, approaching him. Stephen. And suddenly he felt naked again, because Randy had _left_ him naked, had replaced the safe _let Stephen make the first move_ with bare facts about Stephen's feelings and that in turn left the first move to Phil… in a way.

And when had his heart began to pound like this…?

"Yer okay? Yer look… uhm, tense."

Stephen's voice was quiet, careful almost. Worried, definitely.

"Don't look at me like this," Phil sighed as he looked up, finding an equally worried expression on the handsome face. "I'm okay."

Nodding slightly, Stephen moved to sit down on the free beanbag next to Phil, but before his butt connected with it, Hannibal jumped onto it, curling up to a ball of contentment while eyeing them both with big brown eyes.

"Yeah, wonderful, yer spoiled piece of fur," Stephen muttered, raising an eyebrow but instead of shooing the dog away, he bent down to scratch the dog's ear.

"You can sit here," Phil said softly, patting the space in front of himself as he scooted back a little to make room for Stephen, whose eyes jumped from Phil's to the free space and back to Phil's eyes.

For a second he seemed to ponder, before straightening up again to step up to Phil.

"Stand up, Bambi."

Frowning, Phil obeyed.

"Why am I doing this?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow in question.

Instead of giving an answer, Stephen sat down on the beanbag, shifting a little, before patting the space in front of him just as Phil had done. Phil didn't move though, just looked at the place the hand had been patting, because… yeah, why? He wasn't sure why. Probably his mind was too busy with bombarding him with how it would feel to be for once not the one holding, but being held and with scenarios what might happen now and…

Fingers closed around his wrist, tugging gently, urging him to sit down. He did sit down then or rather his legs bypassed his brain and decided that sitting down was a better idea than overthinking this. A blink later he found himself wrapped up in broad arms, more lying than sitting actually and firmly held against Stephen's hard yet soft chest… skin on skin because they still weren't wearing shirts due to the warm nightly air.

Heaven on earth…

It was a bit like jumping between two worlds, this thing between Stephen and him, wasn't it? There was this world where Stephen seemed to want more and there was this other world where Stephen wanted them to be just friends. And it was always that very moment when Phil was only a breath away from getting the man he wanted so much that Stephen jumped into this other world, leaving him behind.

Stephen kept pushing him back into the friend-zone and slowly but surely Phil's chest began to hurt. Badly.

Being stuck in the friend-zone would have been… okay. Somehow. Sure, it was too late now to say Stephen was only a very good friend. Much too late. He had reached the point where the L-word wasn't only a faint idea anymore. It had slipped into his heart, blatantly purposing to make itself at home there. But even now Phil could have lived with being in the friend-zone and only there, being nothing more and nothing less than the very good friend, no matter how much it would hurt until the L-word would move out of his heart again to find a new home. Rather being a friend only than not having Stephen in his life at all. Only that Stephen pulled him out of that zone. Again and again.

Stephen shifted his hold on him a little, holding him even tighter, and drew his knees up a bit, framing Phil. Being cocooned in Stephen, that's how it felt.

Far out of the friend-zone again, that was what this now was.

And Phil's mind stopped spinning, the noise in his head calming down as Stephen's presence seeped into him and closing his eyes, he let his head fall back against his friend's shoulder. While one hand found a home on a thick, now sadly jeans covered thigh, his other hand found one of Stephen's, shyly slipping under it. Fingers interlaced.

Good. So good…

This… they way Stephen was holding him… was definitely not like holding a friend. Allowing hands to be joined like this… it wasn't something you do with a friend. And the way Stephen was just nuzzling his cheek against Phil's temple surely was not something you do with a friend.

"How does it feel? I mean being in love with a guy?" Stephen asked hushed.

Opening his eyes a crack, Phil gazed up to the blinking stars.

"In all those years of having a gay best friend, one should think that he's the first address for you to ask something like that," Phil snorted softly.

"Huh, yeah. But we… somehow we never talked about it," Stephen mumbled. "So?"

"Uh… I don't know, uhm, normal?" he replied then, frowning lightly. "How does being in love with a woman feel? Why should it feel different? Love is love."

For a long moment there was only silence and the feeling of Stephen's cheek against his temple and those arms around his middle and the nice, muscled chest against his back and… He was zoning out here. Letting his gaze wander over the illuminated city, he waited and when Stephen eventually spoke again, his voice was more a whisper than anything else, hesitant, and his words created an odd tingling at the base of Phil's skull.

"Are yer in love with someone?"

Unseen by Stephen his eyes widened and his heart tripped. The question had caught him off-guard. Was he in love? Funny. No, actually… not funny. The _I think I'm falling in love with you_ was a thing of the past, because the L-word was right there, whispering in his heart. What was it good for to deny it any longer?

_I love you._

Still there was a _no_ lying on his tongue because he was afraid, wasn't he? But to say it aloud would have been nothing more and nothing less than a lie and he didn't want to lie to Stephen. So… he could as well admit that there was… someone. For now it was safe. Safe until he found the guts and the right moment to… kiss Stephen.

"I… yeah. Yes, there is someone."

The body against him tensed up ever so slightly, making Phil wonder if he had said too much or… if Stephen didn't like his answer out of a completely different reason.

_Let it be jealousy…_

And then Phil's heart sang quietly as the arms around him ever so slightly held tighter on to him, as the hold on his hand got firmer, as the legs framing him pressed a bit more against him, all of it oh so subtly and wonderful possessively.

Jealousy? Relief? Whatever it was, it was good.

The question who it was never came though and Phil wished once more to be allowed to take a glimpse behind the blue eyes. Was his friend assuming that it was him who Phil loved? Was he pondering if he should end what he had started in the pool?

_He only needs a push, Phil._

He could try to kiss him now… but somehow it didn't feel like it was the right moment. Back in his kitchen last night would have been the right moment, or in the pool… Maybe when they were alone again, when Stephen would drop him off at home. Then he would only have to gather his courage to really do it, maybe even to stop Stephen from retreating.

_Let's try a different kind of push for now_, he thought, tightening his fingers around Stephen's.

"What about you? Is there someone?" he asked quietly, closing his eyes as he focused on the man holding him, trying to catch even the tiniest of reactions.

He got one. Stephen's breath hitched.

"I…" Stephen began, his voice barely above a whisper.

_Just say it_, Phil called to him in his mind. _Please._

But Stephen didn't. Maybe because John came over to them, shooing the dog off the beanbag to claim the bag for himself, or maybe Stephen didn't want to answer the question, Phil had no idea. It was okay though. The right moment would come.

A moment later Randy joined John, crawling up the broad frame to settle belly to belly between his lover's legs for some kissing and cuddling, including ridiculously sweet words of affection and Phil couldn't help but look over to them. For a brief moment Randy met his gaze, winking at him, before he rested his head on John's chest, closing his eyes. There was a loving smile on Randy's lips and on John's, too, as he dropped a kiss to Randy's hair.

And while they lay there, with Randy and John holding tightly on to each other, being the picture perfect sight of pure love, it made Phil even more aware that he and Stephen were doing the same and it gave him the blissful illusion of being lovers.

Time went by much too fast and eventually it was time to go and Phil was a bit sad, because he actually wanted to stay out of various reasons. He liked the apartment. He liked Randy and John. He liked Hannibal. But most of all he liked lying on that beanbag, being all wrapped up in Stephen while the stars sparkled above them.

During the ride to Phil's apartment, they were talking about the evening, except about what had happened between them and further they were away from Randy's apartment, the more Phil felt uncertain about making the first move.

When they reached Phil's apartment and the motor died down, there was a moment of silence as they looked at each other. The feeling of being wrapped up in the other man was lingering, but he knew it wouldn't last forever.

"You wanna come in?" he asked hopefully. "We both have the day off tomorrow. We could watch a movie or whatever and talk a little."

_About us._

Gosh, he was sounding so pathethic here.

It was only a second or two until Stephen spoke, but it felt like a little eternity to Phil. Blue eyes roamed his face as Stephen lifted a hand to wipe a strand of hair out of Phil's face, just like he'd done this afternoon.

It was back, the tension, the humming, getting stronger again.

"Yeah," Stephen replied softly, giving him a tiny smile.

Neither of them spoke on the short way to his apartment. Stephen was walking with a bit of distance behind him and Phil could feel the gaze of those eyes rest on him, intense, as if he wanted to look right into his soul. His own eyes were fixed on the ground as he dug for his keys and he couldn't stop a surprised yelp from passing his lips as fingers closed almost painfully around his upper arm to pull him back hard.

"I said stop!" Stephen whispered sharply.

"What the hell…?" Phil began but he was stopped by his friend's hand over his mouth.

Instead of answering, Stephen gazed over to the door to Phil's apartment. Phil followed his gaze. And found the door a crack open. There were damages on the door, the frame, speaking of being broken open by a crowbar.

"Fuck…" Phil whispered, moving to walk over, but Stephen held him back.

"Yer are not gonna to put a foot past tha door, yer hear me?" the other man said hushed. "What if someone's still in there?" Phil blinked at him. Right, he hadn't thought about that. "I want yer to go down and call the police."

Wait, Stephen wanted _him_ to go down…

"Oh no, nonono, you're not going in there alone," Phil hissed and grabbed the other man's shirt with both hands as the image of Stephen getting shot by a burglar invaded his mind, bringing the memory of him dying back at the bank along.

"I'm a goddamn cop, I…"

"_No_!" he breathed as he gave Stephen a rough shake. "I'm not gonna let you do that. What if you get hurt? What if you get kil…" He stopped mid-word, staring at his friend with wide and pleading eyes. And as Stephen once more looked over to the open door, he tugged him close and pressed his face against his friend's shoulder, because that fucking memory refused to go away. "Please, go down with me. _Please_…"

A hand cradled his head. A sigh was breathed.

"Okay, Bambi. It's okay…"

With a last gaze over to the door they made their way back out of the house to call the police and while they were waiting, Phil thought that there was probably no one in his apartment, or else they would have heard sounds coming from the inside or whoever had broken in would have come out. But even now, being outside and safe… the thought of Stephen going in there was… it was…

Blood. His mind bombarded him with unwanted memories. Blood on Stephen's face, on his belly, the red glaring on the pale skin. Stephen's blood on his hands… A _please no _passed his lips and he didn't know if he had said it aloud or if it had only been a breath, but he felt Stephen's arms wrap around him.

Five minutes later a cruiser arrived. The next minutes went by in a blur. There had been no one in the apartment. Although the whole apartment was a mess, nothing was missing or damaged except for the door. The lock and key service that had arrived only a few minutes after the police and changed the lock. The officers took their evidences.

And then Phil was standing in the middle of his living room, confused and perturbed, gazing around absentmindedly.

"Bambi?"

He flinched.

"It feels like someone has _touched me_," he mumbled in a faraway voice. "I can't… I…"

"Yer wanna stay at me place for a while?" Stephen suggested quietly as he walked up to Phil.

"Yeah," Phil whispered as a tiny wave of relief and gratefulness rolled through him.

The mere thought that a stranger had been here made him feel sick to the stomach… and it scared him. This was his home, his safe place and someone had been in here uninvited, had touched his personal stuff and the worst thing was that nothing had been stolen. Why would someone break into his apartment and leave without taking anything with them?

"Come on, Bambi, let's get some of yer stuff," Stephen said, gently laying a hand on his arm.

It took them not even ten minutes until they sat in Stephen's car again, heading for his place and with the growing distance to his own apartment, Phil began to feel a little better. Or rather… safer.

It was Stephen who eventually broke the silence.

"Yer need to talk to a psychotherapist, Phil."

Not glancing over to him, Phil muttered: "No. It'll get better."

"I'm serious. Talk to a doc. Please."

Stephen's voice was soft, careful and spoke of deep worry and now Phil did look at the other man, finding the worry etched in the handsome features.

He didn't like this topic. Not when his doc told him this and not even when Stephen brought it up.

"Can we please not talk about it?" he begged weakly, but he could read in those baby blues that Stephen wouldn't let it go, not again.

"Bambi… it's been three months now. It won't get better, it'll only get _worse_ if yer don't go to a doc. Look, I know yer don't like the idea but…" A sigh. Heavy. "After I woke up from the coma, I refused to do a psychological therapy. The nightmares got worse and after a months I couldn't stand it any longer. I still have those nightmares every now and then, but I'm back at living a normal life. Please, just give it a thought."

Phil only nodded, hoping that his friend would let this topic drop now, and gazed back out of the window. Somehow it was odd to hear that Stephen, his tough Stephen with the courage of a lion was doing a psychological therapy. But he was only human after all, wasn't he?

Quiet minutes followed in which his mind drifted off again, back to the moment in the pool… and to lying with Stephen on the beanbag. His eyes swept over the outside world and he only faintly registered as they drove into an underground garage. Only when a hand settled on his thigh, squeezing it gently, he realized that they had reached their destination.

Stephen's apartment was definitively bigger than his own, with two bathrooms and a guestroom. The whole apartment simply looked… comfortably, warm, making him feel at home immediately.

"Yer can have me bed tonight," Stephen said as he led Phil to the bedroom. "Tomorrow I'll get the guestroom ready for yer. Yer can stay as long as yer want, Bambi. Okay?"

Phil's eyes fell on a big bed with a big duvet and lots of pillows. And all of it looked so goddamn comfy.

"No, I'll sleep on the couch," Phil replied, although the idea of sleeping in this bed where everything smelled of Stephen made his poor little heart jump.

His holdall was taken from his hand and dropped to the floor beside the bed. Slowly Stephen bent down a bit to switch the light on the bedstand on and braced on the small piece of furniture for a moment. There was a sigh, barely audible but there.

"I'm not gonna let yer sleep on the couch." Stephen's voice didn't leave room for discussion. There was hesitation in his friend's movements as he straightened up again, as he turned around to Phil but despite the sure voice there was uncertainty written on his face. "Yer mad at me?"

"Mad? At you? No, why?" Phil frowned.

"Because of the therapy thing," Stephen mumbled. "Yer've been so quiet ever since."

And here this big man was standing in front of him like a small boy, gnawing at his bottom lip, thinking that he was mad because Stephen was worrying about him. Closing the short distance between them, he lifted a hand and laid it on the spot just above his friend's heart. He loved the feeling of the faint beating against his palm.

"Don't be silly. How can I be mad at you for being worried? I've just been thinking about today," Phil assured.

_I've been thinking about us_, he added in his mind.

"Good," Stephen whispered while putting a hand to Phil's waist, fingers splaying, feeling, gently digging into the flesh… pulling him in ever so slightly.

And while Phil gazed into Stephen's eyes, he found an affection shining in them that took his breath away and again he fell, wanting to get lost in their depths. Then something was shifting in the depths of those blue orbs, making them cloud over as they roamed Phil's face and he could feel the heartbeat under his palm quicken, just as his own heart began to run faster as Stephen brought his other hand up to the back of Phil's neck. Phil could tell that the other man tried to keep his breathing calm and even and maybe their moment in the pool was very present in Stephen's mind… and heart… too? And again he was pulled a little closer and Stephen leaned in a bit and Phil did, too, while his heart cried for that kiss… But then Stephen closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them again, they were clear again and Phil knew that Stephen would back off. Again.

"Yer look tired," Stephen muttered, dropping his eyes to the floor. "Yer should go to sleep."

_Fuck, no…_ Phil thought and Stephen didn't see the disappointment on Phil's face and he also didn't see as the disappointment was wiped away by determination.

The hands left Phil's body as Stephen moved to walk around him, but Phil's hand stayed right there on his friend's chest, his fingers twisting into the shirt to hold him back from retreating. He would not let him go, not again. Not this time. Stephen stopped, dipping his head a bit forward while closing his eyes. Phil noticed how his friend's breathing quickend a bit more, felt the faint beating of Stephen's heart become a pounding and his own heart joined in.

"Don't go," Phil breathed, gingerly bringing his other hand up to the beloved face to cup Stephen's jaw, the touch begging him to look at Phil.

Hesitation. Only the briefest of moments… yet it felt like a lifetime.

Goosebumps flared all over Phil's body as his gaze was met by precious, mezmerizing oceans, deep and sparkling blue, vivid… breathtaking. Too goddamn beautiful. Resting his forehead against his friend's, he let his hand travel up, the beard soft against his palm.

"Stephen…" he whispered as he closed his eyes, his whole being narrowing on this man.

Faintly he felt breath fan over his face, fast and shallow... a touch on the side of his face, feather light and so infinitely tender... and on his side, once more hesitating, before a strong arm circled his waist to pull him in tightly.

And because this was the right moment, _their_ moment… Phil kissed him.

A soft touch of lips... and the tiny sound that escaped Stephen's throat sent a tingling through Phil. A breathless moan, begging and helpless, followed and got lost between their lips as Phil deepened the kiss. Tongues, sliding against each other in a shy dance, all soft strokes, slow and begging. The kiss was slow, sweet and so very loving that it stole Phil's breath, made him forget about everything than Stephen and wrapping an arm around Stephen's neck he pressed close, closer, molding their body together... holding on to him like on to a lifeline. There was Stephen's scent filling his nostrils, his taste on his tongue and the touch of gentle fingers on his skin as Stephen's hand slipped under his shirt. This kiss was pristine and pure bliss and it unleashed a firework in him, sent jolts of all kinds of good throughout his body.

It felt like he was dreaming, yet he knew he wasn't. Finally he was kissing the man he... loved...

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**Reviews? Pretty please?**


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